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Show From Rags to I Silk Attire 1 ' 3 3 3 o By 9 o Augustus Goodrich Sherwin 3 (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) Rags a room full of them, a warehouse ware-house given to shreda, patches, fragments, frag-ments, to strips of rotted woolen lengths, thin and faded cotton tatters. tat-ters. Rags once white, now spotted and soiled. Discarded silks from my lady's dressing room, homespun weaves that bore the mark of rain and grime, and wear and tear. And amid the biggest heap of the fragments to be sorted plodded and sang as pure and bright a spirit as cloister or palace might contain. They called her Floribel. Where she came from, who her father and mother, no one seemed to know except old Jacobs, the owner of the rag shop. Once his wife had given it out that they had reared her from a child, had taken her from an orphan asylum. They were coarse, common people at the rag shop, but even in that atmosphere atmos-phere of dregs Floribel grew like a beautiful lily. She would sing when alone like a lark, but never when Madame Jacobs was about. Floribel was in deep dread of the lynxlike, tigerish-eyed -old woman. Not that the madam ever mistreated her, except to keep her at work twelve hours a day, but because she , shrank from the inharmonious nature of the woman. Madame gripped at the heaps of rags in a way that seemed to tell that so forcefully would she tear at human hearts, if she could find gold among them! Once Floribel had found a diamond ring in an old glove. When she gave It to the madam, the selfish, avaricious avari-cious glee of her task mistress fairly appalled her. She gloated over it, she kissed it, she hastened to convert It into money. After that, the probing eager eyes of the old woman terrified Floribel. 1 c She Gloated Over It. Ever on the lookout for treasure, for money or trinkets.'the rag woman resembled re-sembled some famished ferret on the scent of blood. . Then one day "The Hero" came into the lonely life of the beautiful isolated iso-lated girl. A young man entered the place and. asked for its proprietor. Old Jacobs was absent on a rag buying buy-ing trip. The madame was also absent, ab-sent, but would return soon. In awe of the rich tasteful attire of the unfamiliar un-familiar caller, fascinated . with his handsome face, the courtesy of the true gentleman that he bestowed upon her, as in a dream Floribel dusted dust-ed off the one rickety chair in the place and resumed her work. He sat looking at her with more than common interest. Her pure, Innocent In-nocent face deeply attracted him. He Influenced the shy eyes to seek his own, he led her to talk with him. Soon he had her simple story. "It Is no place for you, this," he Bald, and he took a card from his pocket and wrote upon it. "I am giving giv-ing you the address of my sister," he explained. "She is a .widow, young, lonely. I am sure she would find you a brighter home 'than"thlg wretched place." Then Madam Jacobs came In. The young man stated his business. He was Arlo Willis, his sister was Mrs. Ivan Neal. The latter had removed from a former home. A great part of Us old furniture, the varied contents of a lumber room, had been sold. Among some papers, old papers that had been thrown out from the old furniture, was a certain document the caller wished to recover. The second-hand dealar who had brought the stuff had informea him that all the old carpets, rags and paper pa-per had been sold to Jacobs. Could madame recall the transaction, Mr. Willis inquired quite anxiously. "Scarcely," she told him, but the watchful Floribel noted a quick eager gleam in her basilisk eyes. "I will search, though," she promised, "and let you know. The document, sir" "Is a number of folded blue sheets, tied with a faded white ribbon. It Is marked 'W!' " "I will report to you." pledged madame, and took his card, and he left the gruesome place, but not until he had bestowed a kindly parting glance at Floribel. Then she dreamed. All life seemed radiant. It was as if some royal prince had entered a squalid Cinderella Cin-derella hut, leaving behind him a rare memory of bewildering sensations. sensa-tions. Poor child! love budded in her tender heart, in her very humility she worshiped at its shrine. Floribel treasured the card. She memorized the names upon it. Could the vision indicated by her courteous visitor ever come true? To have such friends, to be cared for amid cleanliness cleanli-ness and comfort she thought not of opulence or luxury just to be near such sweet natures, to toil for them, to love them this, simply, was the aspiration of her childlike, loyal nature! na-ture! All that afternoon the madame poked and ferreted about the place. When her husband came home she held a spirited low-toned conversation with him. Then both of them proceeded pro-ceeded to ransack pile after pile of hitherto unassorted wreckage. A quick token of interest came Into the mind of Floribel, as she saw them hastening to the wretched room dignified digni-fied as the office of the old toppling warehouse. The names "Willls"-"Noal" "Willls"-"Noal" floated to her hearing, cautiously cau-tiously spoken. She gained a court where she could overhear what was said. "It's the paper," she heard the madame say, "and it is worth a fortune." for-tune." "How do you know?" spoke the rasping tones of old Jacobs. "I have read it. A family secret, man an old scandal that these rich people would surely give a fortune to suppress. Ah, we are rich, rich, rich at last!" Guileless as to the ways of the world as Floribel was she realized from what followed that her avari. cious guardians were bent on a vast blackmailing scheme. Her mind woke up to the immensity of the occasion. To celebrate their discovering a fortune, the old man and woman sent out for liquor. It was long after dark when they sank into a sodden sleep. Floribel approached the recumbent madame. She had noticed where she had secreted se-creted the blue colored document with a white ribbon encircling it, just as Mr. Willis had described. Her eyes grew brilliant as two stars as she secured the precious paper. She thrust it into her bosom. Over and over again she repeated the name and address that Arlo Willis had written on the card. Floribel rarely went out of thu wretched building where she had toiled so hard. It was a bitter cold night, and her ragged shoes and thin covering poorly kept at bay the fierce biting frost. Twice as she hurried along she felt as if she would sink to the ground, benumbed and overcome. Bravely, however, she fought her way against the wintry blast. She located the address given on the card, a great ornate mansion on a fashionable thoroughfare. thor-oughfare. Floribel had just sufficient strength to totter up the steps anil ring the doorbell, when her senses reeled and she sank to the cold marble step, unconscious. There she had been found by Mrs. Neal. Floribel awoke to find herself in a luxurious bed, a beautiful lady hovering over her. What loving grateful arms inclosed her, as she told her story so simple in its naive recital, re-cital, but meaning so much to the proud Willis family! And it was in silken attire, a transformed trans-formed Ftoribel, that Arlo Willis saw the lovely ward of his sister the next day. Like one transported to a perfect paradise, the sweet little waif entered upon her new life. Her bright ways, her gratitude, her beauty and then her fervent love appealed ap-pealed to the great nature of Arlc Willis. The Jacobs people never saw her again, but society did. In all her brilliant bril-liant loveliness, loyal, unspoiled, radiantly radi-antly happy, the humble child of th; lonely rag warehouse became the reigning -bride of the season. |