The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-04-10 00:00:00

everyone spoke well. She was, by accounts, a modest,
well-educated girl, with the manners and bearing of a
gentlewoman. In his opinion, matters might have
been much worse.

"Worse r exclaimed the squire. "How?"

"Your son might have married a woman of loose
character. Such women, with good looks, often
entrap young men, and he is impressionable."
"Better that, better disease, deformity, anything,
no matter how warped or hideous, than what he has
done. I would rather he were in his coffin."

Remonstrance was useless. With any word of ex-
postulation, the squire's wrath waxed hotter, and he
roundly declared that if he had the power he would
have Mr. Whiffin hanged for aiding and abetting in
the affair.

If Leonard, bashing in his wife's smiles, under the
sunny skies of Italy, had any hope of forgiveness, it
was soon dispelled.
His letter, announcing his marriage to his father was
returned to him, torn in two, witha curt intimation,
In the squire's well-known handwriting, on the back
of one of the pieces, that any more would be returned
unopened. . .

Mr. Carson wrote by the same mail, saying that he
did so at Mr. Atherstone's request, and stated that the
copy of the marriage register had been carefully kept;
"in case the lady's future conduct should render it
necessary as a reference," was the reason given. And
the letter went on to state that the squire had called
his servants together, and told them in a few bitter
words that he had no longer any son, that he forbade
them ever to mention the name of Mr. Leonard Ather-
stone among themselves or to any outsiders. Further-
more, he had openly declared his intention of making
the son of his cousin, Morton Atherstone, the rector of
St. Mary's, Leamington, his heir.
Morton Atherstone and his cousin were very in-
timate, and the growing family at the rectory owed
many a comfort and pleasure to the irascible father
of their "big cousin "Leonard. The rector was a much
younger man than the squire, and his family were but
children as yet. By the new arrangement, Atherstone
was to go to the eldest boy, falling him to the second,
but the son of the house was to be quite left out in the
cold.

The rev, gentleman succeeded in persuading his
cousin not to actually make his will yet, but he could
not prevent him from proclaiming the fact every-
where that his boy was to be the heir. He felt sure
himself that relenting would come by and by, but
he did not know his cousin so well as he imagined.
Meantime Leonard and his wife lived on in hope,
which sank to despair sometimes, though they never
wrote again for a long time. The young man cou'd
feel pride and haughty resentment as well as his
father, and the estrangement seemed complete. There
was no want of money at present. They were living
in a very simple fashion, happy and content with one
another.

Presently a little daughter cattle to make their union
more precious and loving still, and Leonard thought
that now maybe his father's heart would soften
towards him. He did wish for a brief moment that
the little one had been a boy, but Beryl's supreme
happiness in her child atQned for the disappointment.
He asked no favours at his father's hands, but as soon
as the baby was old enough to have distinctive
features he sent a pretty miniature of her home to
Atherstone, with a few brief lines.

"I send you our child's portrait," he wrote, "that
you may see bhe is a true Atherstone in feature; at
least in every point but one. She has her mother's
eyes. We have called her Beryl Margaret. Do not
destroy the senseless ivory for the sake of the mother,
who loved me dearly, and whose name I have given to
my child."
This letter did not come back. Leonard thought
perhaps that the torn pieces might have gone astray in
the post. Ho never knew on this side the grave that
the latter and miniature were safely stowed away
among the squire's most precious relics, nor what a
strange tale they would tell to the owner of Atherstone
Grange in days to come.
(2o be continued,)