“Finally my father was injured by a falling building and for two years we were dependent on charity or, as some children used to say to me, we were county charges. I was so young then that I did not realize what it really meant. At last papa gave up his last breath of this life and the county buried him. Mamma’s rich relatives never came near during the trouble. After papa’s death, mamma obtained work in the home of a family in Milwaukee. She was housekeeper for an old gentleman of about sixty-five. His wife had died years before and his family now consisted of himself, two grown daughters and one son about twenty-two. I was then fourteen, and it was so arranged that I was to assist with the work and go to school. That all seemed very nice, for mamma and I could live together. All went well for a year, during which time my mother’s two brothers died and as they were the only remaining heirs to the large estate, their demise left my grandmother the only legal heir, as my grandfather had so provided in his will that my mother was entirely cut off. At the end of the first year in our Milwaukee position, Edmund Decker came home from college ready to do battle with the world. I felt the effects of the menial exactness of my position. I was but fifteen then, but he of twenty-three, fell in love with me and fearing his father’s objections, our meetings were secret. Oh, how I have watched and waited for him, and how the moments would fly as he held me in his arms and breathed words into my young ears that made the rich, warm blood of my youth leap and bound through my veins, while my lips and cheeks burned as though they were being bathed in fire. Alas, our anticipations were true; we were caught fairly in one of our little love-making scenes. It happened one afternoon when we supposed everyone was away. Edmund came to the house and we were having a tete-a-tete in a little alcove off the library. Nothing so bad about that, but one of the sisters who existed chiefly on suspicion, had hidden behind some heavy curtains, within three feet of us, and after hearing as much as she liked she stepped out of her hiding place and found me contentedly curled up on Edmund’s lap.
“It all ended by my running away and coming to Chicago. I did not let anyone know where I was. I succeeded in getting a position as a nurse girl in one of the best South Side homes. One day I was in the park with the babe who was entrusted to my care, and by sheer accident met Edmund. He explained to me that he was located in the city and had taken up the study of law. We arranged and met often after that; finally Edmund asked me to go out to the theater with him one evening and by a great effort I managed to get away from my duties long enough to accept. After the play Edmund suggested that we call on a friend of his who was preparing to leave the city that night and bid her goodbye. We called at the flat of his friend. She had changed her plans some and would not go until three o’clock the next morning. She was just preparing some lunch after her day of packing. We stayed to lunch and had wine. That was the first I had ever tasted. I never did return to the nursery. Edmund arranged that night to rent his friend’s furnished apartment and she went away leaving us in charge of everything. Edmund said it was all right, for we were going to be married anyway just as soon as he was admitted to the bar, so that he did not have to depend upon his father for support.
“We lived very happy, my husband and I, for he was my husband and he used to call me his wee little wifey. It is no use for me to describe all the fun of the few short months we dwelt together there, but it all ended in this way:
“Edmund was so devoted and attached to me that in order to be with me constantly he neglected his studies in the law office. Sometimes he would not leave me for days, and the firm with whom he was studying notified his father of his dilatory conduct. His father was a shrewd man and was not long in guessing that there was a woman in the affair some place. He had Edmund watched, followed and located in the house, discovered that he was living under an assumed name with some woman but failed to determine who the woman was.
“One day I watched and waited for Edmund as usual. Night came, but no Edmund; all night I waited by the window for that form to appear. Daylight broke in all its freshness and glory only to find me still longing for the loving caress on which I had learned to exist. Long days and dreary nights dragged slowly enough. I could not imagine why Edmund did not return or at least write me. I listened for the familiar step along the hall, and when exhaustion compelled me to seek rest and sleep, I would dream of rivers of dirty, black water, and finally awoke from some horrible nightmare screaming for Edmund. I did not lose faith in him and I thank God for that. I knew some terrible calamity had befallen him, but silly little goose that I was, dared not tell anyone nor try to find him. Each day the sun rose with more spots on it, each night was darker than the preceding one; every hour brought more misery and desolation to my young heart and with nothing to console or encourage me, I almost cried my eyes out. I had no appetite, consequently at the end of three weeks I was a fit subject for a dime museum. Oh, I looked terrible! At that time I was confronted with a new trouble which absorbed some of my time and attention. When Edmund went away he left very little money in the house and I was suddenly brought face to face with the fact that I was almost penniless. My maid of all work left at this stage, and I was entirely alone in my misery.
“For three days and nights I had not a bite to eat, then a strange thing happened; a woman came to my house and asked me if I would rent her and her husband a room. She was a handsome, dignified, well dressed woman and offered to pay liberally and in advance. I hesitated, not because I thought of refusing but for the reason that I was faint and hungry and not strong enough to talk glibly; the woman mistook my slowness of reply. She thought I was afraid she would not pay, whereupon she took from her purse a roll of bills greater than I had ever before seen, at the same time asking me how much I wanted for the front room. Visions of loaded tables, steaming dishes and dainty salads rushed past my eyes while the aroma of hot coffee seemed to fill my nostrils until my wasted frame shook with an excited hunger. I managed to state a price. She paid me and went to bring her trunks. Oh, at last, I could have something to eat; I could regale myself with food such as I had not tasted for days. I went to my room to dress thinking it best to go to a restaurant. Fortunately I had given my roomer a key and when she returned that night she found me where I had fallen, half dressed on the floor of my room, while clasped tightly in my hand were the crumpled bills she had given me. I battled long and hard with a fever, all the time calling for Edmund. At last the fever broke, leaving me a poor, emaciated wreck. The doctor told me I would be all right soon and added that I would soon be able to go to work. That sounded so strange to me who had learned to depend on someone else; time did bring my complete physical recovery, but I had added responsibilities. I owed a large doctor bill which came to me with the request to remit before I was fairly able to sit up all day. I could not pay it, and could not figure out how and when I could expect to pay. Almost daily the medical man’s collector called. He harassed me so that I actually wished the doctor had allowed me to die. In spite of all this I grew strong; color came to my cheeks, my lips took on the rosy hue which had so many times drawn complimentary remarks from Edmund. My eyes shone with their old time brightness, and when people told me I was getting pretty, they said it in such an earnest way that I was inclined to believe them. My improved condition was due to the kindness of the woman who was rooming at my house; during my illness she assumed entire control of everything, and was to me all that a mother could be.
“At last the doctor’s demands became unbearable. He called personally one day; his salute was genial and his manner kindly, but his remarks were burdened with sarcasm. He went even so far as to make improper advances to me, saying that I might liquidate my obligations to him by becoming his friend. I was so indignant that the words I used in telling him of his unprofessional conduct could not well be mistaken. He laughed at my rage and informed me that he knew of my affair with Edmund; also that the woman living in my house was a person of improper character and accused me of being aware of the fact. His argument was no good. I would not listen to his demands. After he had gone I went to the lady in the house and told her all that had passed. She acknowledged that she was not married to the man whose name she bore, and even half advised me to accept the doctor’s offer. I was desperate and had it not been for the mean advantage he had taken I believe I would have consented to the plan, but the man had completely killed all feeling in my breast for him and it was now but a matter of business. I owed and must pay, and pay I would, but in cash. I resolved upon one thing, and that was that if my soul was to be disposed of in a mercenary manner it would go to some one who was willing to strike a bargain and not because I was under obligations to that one. I thought of one more plan and acted upon it as a last resort. I put an advertisement in the leading papers, asking Edmund to return to me or send me some word. I put it in as a blind advertisement. I received one reply and it stated that the party advertised for had gone to Europe and I need not expect to see him as he was through with me. Heavens! how my Scotch blood boiled. I branded the whole thing as a lie. Again the lady roomer helped me out. I counselled with her and she went to the law office where he had been studying and there she saw a letter from him postmarked Berlin. That settled it; my mind was now made up as to my next step. I began a methodical canvass of the houses of ill repute and when I found one that I thought was of the better class of places of that nature I applied for admission and was admitted. This occurred about four o’clock in the afternoon, one cold, dreary, cloudy day, not a fitting atmosphere for one to begin a new undertaking, but a fitting inducement to tempt one to rid one’s self of the blues. I was to go to my new home at once and fired with the fever of excitement and firm determination to bury the past, I took my trunk and was assigned to my room in the midst of public debauchery and iniquity. I must say that the surroundings were very inviting. I soon learned that I was not the only unfortunate girl in the world; many more who were there had even more sad experiences than I, owing to the fact, perhaps, that they had been in the world longer.
“As I did not have the proper clothes upon my arrival I was not asked to go to the parlor the first evening, so I spent the time visiting with the other members of this sinful family, during such time as they were not engaged.
“The next morning a modiste took my measure. At noon several flowing robes of silk were sent to my room for trial. I selected three beautiful ones, which were fitted to me. The landlady had them charged to her account and I was told to dress myself and appear in the parlor at eight that evening.