In a few days Stanton and Raymond started for Kentucky. The evening before

they left was spent by Stanton in Nellie's company. Mrs. Fulton had

invited her to pass the night with her, as the Judge was absent from home.

About ten o'clock Mrs. Fulton very considerately grew sleepy, and retired

to her own room. But long after the town clock rang out the hour of

midnight, a light might have been seen gleaming from the windows of Judge

Fulton's sitting room, in which sat Robert and Nellie, repeating for the

hundredth time vows of eternal constancy.

The next morning when the last rumbling sound of the eastern train died

away in the streets of Geneva, Nellie Ashton sat weeping in her little

room at the seminary. She felt that now she was again alone in the wide,

wide world. Eight years before she had in the short space of three weeks

followed both father and mother to their last resting place, and upon

their newly-made graves she had prayed the orphan's prayer, that God would

protect one who was without father, mother, brother or sister in the

world.

The little property of her father was sold for the payment of his debts,

and Nellie, who was then but twelve years old, was obliged to labor both

early and late for her daily bread. Her father had lived near the city of

New York, and not long after his death she procured a situation in a

wealthy family of that city. She was called "the girl to do chores," which

meant that she was kept running from garret to cellar, from parlor to

kitchen, first here and then there, from earliest dawn to latest evening.

It was almost always eleven o'clock before she could steal away to her low

bed in the dark garret, and often, in the loneliness of the night, would

the desolate child pray that the God with whom her parents dwelt would

look in pity upon the helpless orphan.

Ere long her prayer was answered, for there came to the house where she

lived a gentleman and lady, who saw the "little kitchen girl." Something

there was in her sad but intelligent face which attracted their notice,

and they inquired her history of Mrs. Stanley, the lady with whom she

lived.

"She is," said Mrs. Stanley, "a good enough girl, if she would only let

books alone; but she seems to have a passion for study, quite unsuitable

for one in her station. When she is cleaning the knives she will have a

book before her; and instead of singing the baby to sleep, she will get

down and read to her, or repeat something which she has learned."




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