AN ADMIRING STRANGER.
Violet had been sobbing softly at the recital of her friend’s sorrows,
but now she lifted her fair head, and dashing the tears from her eyes,
answered, tenderly:
“I will tell you the whole harrowing story, Lena, for I was indeed the
horrified witness of your poor father’s death, and the memory of that
scene will never leave me while life lasts!”
Lena pressed her cold little hand and waited anxiously for her to begin.
“I must tell you first how I came to be in Chicago at that time,” said
Violet. “You see, I was at boarding-school, and last June our lady
principal and her senior class formed a party to attend the World’s
Fair together for a stay of ten days or so. I wrote to grandpapa, and
he readily gave his consent to the plan and inclosed me a generous
check for expenses. On the first of June our party, consisting of Mrs.
Maynard, our teacher, and ten young girls, arrived in Chicago, full of
joyous anticipations over the wonderful sights we were to see.
“As you have been to the Fair yourself, my dear Lena, I need not
dwell on its glories, but only remind you that among the hurrying
throngs that filled the immense palaces on every hand, it was utterly
impossible for such a large party to keep close together. Mrs. Maynard
realized this the first day, and directed her young charges that in
the event of getting separated from each other, we should all meet her
at the closing hour at the Virginia Building, in order to go home
together. We found this plan worked nicely, affording each a better
opportunity to inspect the buildings that appealed most strongly to our
individual tastes.
“On the ninth day of our attendance at the Fair we separated into
parties. Mrs. Maynard and three girls decided to spend that day at the
Woman’s Building, two girls went to the Midway Plaisance, two more to
the Electric Building, and two more to the Building of Liberal Arts and
Manufactures. I found myself alone in the eager desire for a whole day
in the magnificent Art Gallery.
“There seemed no possible harm in leaving me there alone, and Mrs.
Maynard consented to my wish, saying, kindly:
“‘I can trust you, Violet, I know, to meet me at the Virginia State
Building at six o’clock.’
“‘Surely,’ I replied, and she kissed me and turned away with the three
girls toward the Woman’s Building, while I ran lightly up the steps
of the magnificent Art Palace, thrilling with anticipations of the
pleasures in store for me in the contemplation of the wonders of art.
Securing a catalogue at the door, I plunged into the eddying throng
that filled the rooms, and gave myself up to the keenest delight.
“The hours passed like minutes, and I never even remembered the
luncheon hour in the feast of pictures and statuary spread before my
appreciative eyes. Oh, how sorry I was that I should have but the one
day for viewing all the wonders of this building!
“But you have seen and enjoyed the Art Palace, Lena, so let me hurry
on,” cried Violet, as she continued:
“Quite late in the afternoon I observed that a very handsome and
elegant young man seemed to be making the tour of the same rooms as
myself, and even seemed attracted by the same pictures, so that he kept
near me almost all the time. I was a little annoyed at first, fancying
he wished to strike up a flirtation with me, but by completely ignoring
him, I kept my suspected admirer at a distance, and finally I saw him
turn aside into another room and supposed myself rid of his polite but
admiring espionage.
“Relieved at the thought, I continued my tour of the rooms until it
grew late, and I hastily looked at my watch. But, after the careless
habits of womankind, I had neglected to wind it that morning, and it
had run down.
“Turning to an old lady near me, I inquired the time, and was told it
was half-past five o’clock. I thanked her and decided that I could
remain some little time longer, as it would not take me over ten
minutes to walk to the Virginia Building.
“At the same time I observed that the crowd was rapidly thinning out,
and the next moment a Columbian guard came through the rooms, telling
the people that it was six o’clock and the building would now be closed.
“My old lady’s watch had been too slow, and I realized with dismay that
my friends at the Virginia Building must be very impatient waiting for
my return.
“Walking as rapidly as I could to the entrance of the Art Palace, I
discovered, to my surprise, that the heavens were pouring out a perfect
deluge of rain. It was so dark as to look like twilight. The ground was
covered with a miniature river, and the vast crowds of people were
moving toward the various gates under a forest of umbrellas.
“Alas! I had lost my own umbrella that morning on coming out, and had
rather rejoiced in my ill-fortune, it had proved such a nuisance to
carry through the crowds.
“I stood at the top of the broad steps, dismayed at the thought of
venturing into that awful downpour in the thin costume I had worn for
comfort this warm day. I realized that in less than five minutes I
should be soaking wet, and not being very hardy, might probably suffer
an attack of illness from the effects.
“Suddenly an ingratiating voice sounded by my side:
“‘Permit me to offer my umbrella, miss.’
“I glanced up into the eager dark eyes of the young man I had seen so
often in the building that afternoon.
“I shrank with instinctive dislike, and was about to utter a nervous
refusal, and plunge out into the pouring rain, when a loud clap of
thunder and a vivid flash of lightning made me draw back in terror so
great that I could not speak the words that trembled on my lips.
“‘This is dreadful!’ exclaimed the young man, holding the umbrella
carefully over my head to shield me from the storm. ‘You had better
draw back out of the rain, miss, and when it holds up I will escort you
to the gates and find a carriage for you.’
“‘Oh,’ I cried, my anxiety loosening my lips, ‘my friends are waiting
for me at the Virginia Building! I cannot wait, for they will be uneasy
over my delay.’
“‘At least take my umbrella!’ he exclaimed, so kindly that I hesitated.
“‘I cannot rob you of it, sir,’ I replied.
“‘Then permit me to hold it over your head, if you must go,’ he
returned, gently, and drawing my hand through his arm, hurried politely
down the steps.
“We reached the Virginia Building, but it was closed and deserted. Mrs.
Maynard and the girls were gone.
“‘They are probably waiting for you at the gate. I will conduct you to
them,’ said my companion, and we joined the draggled, hurrying throngs
that were rushing toward the Fifty-seventh street entrance. Alas! in
the twilight gloom, the pouring rain, and the rush and confusion, my
friends were not to be found.
“I was wretchedly uncomfortable, my feet soaked, my heart heavy with
an indefinable horror that I thought was fear of a scolding from Mrs.
Maynard, but which I realize now was an awful presentiment of what
was hanging darkly over me. I was on the very point of bursting into
babyish tears when my companion said, kindly:
“‘It seems impossible to find your friends in this confusion, miss, and
it would be better to take a carriage and go straight to your hotel,
where you will probably find them awaiting you.’
“I assented, and, after some delay, he secured a carriage, and when
I had named my hotel, he spoke to the driver, then sprang into the
carriage by my side.
“‘Oh, sir, this is not necessary. You need not accompany me,’ I
protested, in strange haste to get rid of my handsome escort.
“‘I beg your pardon, but I had better see you safely with your
friends,’ he replied, so gallantly that I feared I had seemed
discourteous, and let him have his way. After all, I reflected, he had
been very kind and respectful; I really had no grounds for dreading him.
“While we drove along the rainy streets, he told me that his name was
Adelbert Stanley, and that he lived in Chicago. I returned his courtesy
by giving him my own name, and added the particulars of my visit to the
World’s Fair with my teacher and friends.
“By this time we had reached our destination. The carriage stopped,
Mr. Stanley handed me out, and led me up the steps of a large, gloomy
looking house that in the still pouring rain I did not notice bore no
resemblance to my hotel. But when I was led along a broad hall into a
garishly furnished apartment, I stared about me in sudden alarm.
“‘This is not my hotel! the room is perfectly strange to me!’ I cried,
starting toward the door in haste to get away.
“‘No, no, there is no mistake in the hotel. A blundering servant has
simply shown you to the wrong room. Please remain here quietly a minute
while I have the mistake rectified,’ returned Mr. Stanley, with a
pleasant smile, as he went out, leaving me alone and half terrified in
the room.”