STRANGER THAN FICTION.

Evening Star, Issue 4108, 27 April 1876, Page 3

STRANGER THAN FICTION.

A few mornings ago, when the soup kitchen m Hamilton, Canada, was utterly deserted, save by the matron, who was busily engaged in making the breakfast for the poor who were expected to drop in, the door opened gently, and a thin, frightenedlooking woman, upon whose wan features pain and poverty had laid their mark, stepped into the room. Glancing swiftly around the room, she tottered fonvard into a seat, and covering her face with her tattered shawl burst into an agony of sobs. The appearance of a woman beggar in the soup kitchen was unusual, matron felt exceedingly uncomfortable on seeing this strange apparition. Stepping forward, she inquired if she could do anything for her. With a swift motion the miserable creature drew a soup ticket from the folds of her dress and pressed it almost savagely into the matron’s palm, and then sank exhausted upon the table. The matron brought the soup and laid it before the weeping woman, who in a very short time despatched it, and then, rising, thanked the matron gracefully, and glancing about the room as if she feared detection, was gone the next moment. Hardly ten minutes had elapsed before a gentleman entered the soup kitchen and inquired if such a woman had been there, and on learning that she had been, departed in search of her, and soon afterwards discovered her in the street. The reasons for the gentleman’s interest in such an abandoned creature are given below*. Ten years ago, Caroline Bodette—’the vagrant s name - moved in the very highest circles of society in the great manufacturing town of Manchester, England. She was the daughter of one of the principal manufacturers there, a Frenchman hy the name of Louis Bodette, of the firm of Bodette and Brown, saw manufacturers. Caroline was the only child. She was very beautiful, and was petted by all who knew her, and ere she was seventeen years of age she had received several offers of marriage. At the age of twenty, however, her father made a match ” for her with an elderly friend of his in Paris, one Joseph Simon, and in spito of the poor girl’s protestations the unfortunate match was finally consummated. From that moment Caroline’s course was steadily downwards. She had never loved her husband, and at the expiration of six months she had learned to hate him with all her soul. About this time a young Canadian commercial traveller came upon the scene, having been sent by a large firm in Montreal to transact business with the firm of Bodette, Brown, and Simon, for such was now the name of the firm. Mr Simon invited him to stay with him during his sojourn in Manchester, and the invitation was unfortunately accepted. The Canadian was handsome, and hail a pleasing, insinuating manner, and from the first an intimacy sprang up between him and Madame Simon. One week after the introduction Simon returned home from a trip to London to find that his faithless wife and his handsome Canadian acquaintance had fled no one knew whither, No trace was discovered of them, but subsequent events showed that the guilty pair went first to lasgow, Scotland, and thence took the steamer direct for New It ork. They stayed in that city forsometime, and in the summer of 1873 they camo to this city, where the woman was confined in a house m Catherine street. What afterwards became of tho child is not known, and as to its supposed father no further trace has been discovered of him since he reached this ii i i. A * WoUlall knows about him is that he loft her when she was sick, and she never saw him again. From that moment Caroline Simon became a common vagrant and dniiikaid, known under several names to the police. During tho summer of 1874 she worked as a servant in a tavern in Dun-

das, under the name of Jane Duncan; but she lost her place through drunkenness. Still, Caroline never lost certain traits of beauty, which made her remarkable when seen consorting with the common herd. Her walk was still dignified and graceful, and her face still retained traces of a once wonderful loveliness. Six weeks ago, on the 6th of October last, Joseph Simon, the wealthy hardware merchant, dropped dead in a railway carriage on his way from Edinburgh to Glasgow, and ever since English detectives have been endeavoring to discover his wife. A London detective named Simms, the gentleman mentioned above, has at length succeeded. He is now with her in New York awaiting the first steamer for Liverpool. A letter, written by Caroline in 1874, to an old schoolmate in Oxford, led to the discovery. It is supposed that by th? death of her husband, Caroline, even if she was only to get a third of his property, will be the possessor of L 20.000 sterling.— * Hamilton (Canada) Spectator.’