A Woman’s Fidelity

A Detective’s Experience 

One of the saddest memories connected with my experience as a detective, said Mr. F. is in reference to a young girl, who many years go, was accused of murder. There are those yet in the city who will remember the details of the case. At the time it created an intense excitement, which subsequent revelations did not tend to lessen. 

In one of our fashionable millinery establishments was a young girl named Mary Elliston. She was very young, but with a character formed by the sad experience which is sure to be met within the life of an orphan. She had clear, beautiful, gray eyes, and cheeks soft and delicate as the leaf of the rose; brown curly hair shaded a low, broad forehead, instinct with intellect and intelligence. She was small in figure, but the petite frame was faultless in its exquisite delicacy of outline and contour. It was impossible not to love her, if to such physical beauty is ascribed the generous and kind heart she really possessed.

It is not surprising that such a girl had many admirers. It would be strange if she had not. But there were two whom, from their devotion and her treatment acquired a prominence over the rest. Indeed, the sphere they moved in was far above that of the little milliner. She believed they loved her, and notwithstanding the great distance in their social position, believed they meant her kindly. That they loved her is certain. They were jealous; and more than once a hostile meeting was imminent between them.

Her way home from the store led by Jackson Square. It was not as beautiful then as now; but its rich foliage and elegant bowers at that day even excited admiration. One evening as she passed along the river side of the square she was met by Luisand Lacour, the richest and most persevering of her… Read More