But the afternoon previous to her departure the lovers had an enjoyable drive in Central Park, and on her return from this excursion, Allison met with an adventure which, although, at the time, it seemed unimportant in itself, was destined to result in great things later on.
As she had a few errands to attend to before going home, Gerald left her at one of the large stores on Broadway, after bidding her a reluctant farewell. She had completed her purchase, and had just left a fashionable millinery establishment, where she had bought “a love of a hat,” that was destined to do duty at the seaside, and was standing upon the curbing, waiting for an uptown car, when she observed a young girl, about fourteen years of age, leaning against a lamp-post, and crying bitterly.
She was poorly clad, was very pale, and wore a dejected, suffering air, which at once appealed to the tender heart of the young heiress, who also observed that a heavy bundle lay upon the sidewalk at her feet.
Stepping quietly to her side, Allison gently laid her hand upon her arm to attract her attention.
“Why are you crying?” she questioned in an earnest tone; “has anything happened to you?”
The girl turned her tear-stained face upon the speaker, and Allison saw that it was almost convulsed with pain.
With her right hand she pointed to her left arm, which, her companion now saw, hung limp and useless—broken—by her side.
The next moment the sufferer dropped senseless at her feet.