The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1888-02-18 00:00:00

occasionally joining in the—siing of her bird with a
clear thrilling tone which frequently caused him to
pause and listen, with his bright eye growing
brighter and his plumage ruffling with pleasure.
Mrs. Chard sat in a large chair in front of the
fire, with her head resting upon her hand, apparently
in deep thought. Suddenly the bird chimed in with
its mistress, uttering a strain so loud and clear as
evinced his resolution to attempt a rivalry with her
musical skill. Aroused from her preoccupation by
_ .

this sudden burst of melody, Mrs. Chard turned to
Rose with a smile and said:
Ziska will break his heart yet, Rose, trying to
emulate your voice. Are you not afraid to test his
powers so severely ?"
"Oh, Mamma Amy, the little creature seems to
enjoy it so thoroughly that I cannot refrain from
giving him a lesson every morning. To see him
throw his head to one side, swell his throat, and try
to follow me is too delicious. Listen now," and
another gush of melody filled the rocrn.
Mrs. Chard looked amused, as she said—

"Excellent ! but I scarcely expected to find you
thus employed this morning. A young lady who is
required to decide on her first offer of marriage, is
scarcely expected to occupy her time in giving her
bird a music lesson. Have you seriously thought of
Mr. Alsop's letter, and weighed its contents ?"
"Really, mamma, I beg pardon, but I forgot all
about it. Ido not think my adorer is very much in
earnest—at least, I trust he is not, for I can give no
encouragement to what he calls his dearest hopes. I
suspect he will bear this disappointment with sound
philosophy, and soon find some other fair girl on
whom to set them."
"Upon my word, a very summary way of dismis.
sing one of the wealthiest young merchants in London.
Do you know that Mr. Alsop will probably be a mil.
lionaire one of these days ?"
"It is all the same to me, Mamma Amy; I want
neither him nor his money. Thank heaven! I have

enough of my own to save me from making fortune
an object when I marry."
A shadow crossed the expressive face of Mrs. Chard,
and, after a thoughtful pause, she asked,
"Suppose your fortune should prove a shadow,
Rose—that you should be called on to relinquish it to
another claimaint—could you willingly exchange the
_ _ _ _ _

brilliant position of Miss Chard, the heiress, foi• that
of little Rose in her stepmother's cottage, with barely
a competence ?"
The young girl turned quickly to her, and the rapid
changes in her complexion showed that she was far
from listening with
_indifference to her words. She

said, almost in a whisper,
"The event I have often dreamed of has then
occurred? Albert Trevor has returned to claim his
own." . _

_ .._.
"A person claiming to be Albert Trevor is now in
London. He has yet to prove his identity, which,
after so many years of absence, will not be a very

easy thing to do."
Rose came and sat down on a low ottoman at the
feet of her mother. She took her hand in both her

own, and looked inquiringly into her face; but she
did not speak. Mrs. Chard saw that she was paler
than usual, and her eyes seemed to dilate with emo-
tion.

.You are deeply moved, my child. Is our new
mode of life so much more attractive to you than

that we led in Ivy Cottage, that you cannot bear to
relinquish it ?"
"Oh, no—it is not that! But this is so unexpected
—so strange! After being absent twenty-one years, it
will, indeed, be difficult for Mr. Trevor to prove his
identity; but we must not avail ourselves of that to
do him an injustice. For you, Mamma Amy, I shall
regret the change more than for for myself, for you
are in the sphere you were born to fill."
"Splendour has little charm for me, Rose; but
your future promised so brilliantly that I own I
should have desired that Mr. Trevor had remained
contented to lead the wandering life he had so long
preferred."
"Fie, Mamma Amy! Do not .cloud your natural
sense of justice on my account. I shall have enough
left, at any rate, for the accumulations from the in-
come if the property were to become mine."
Mrs. Chard looked distressed, but she firmly re-
plied—
" They amount to nothing, I am afraid; for the
estate has not been well managed. You are already
aware that on your father's death his estate was found
to be so hopelessly involved that nothing was saved
from it. There were debts still left that would have
impeached his good name had they not been dis-
charged. Your uncle, acting for you, applied nearly
all the accumulations from the Trevor property to the
liquidation of those claims. He did this with my
sanction, for respectability is of more worth than
money; and your father had risked something more
than he should have done, in his wild speculations. I
have never before told you this, Rose—for the fault
of a parent should be held sacred to a child; but now
I must speak the whole truth, that you may under-
stand why your uncle and myself thought it best to
pay those debts, even if we should thereby impoverish
you in time to come."
"You were right, Mamma Amy, and I thank you
from my heart. Name and fame untarnished are far
better than the possession of gold. But where is Mr.
Trevor? Have you seen him? What is he like ?"
"He is a sun-burnt sailor, who has passed the
greater part of his life -on the sea. I have not seen
him myself, but I am assured that with a rough
exterior lie is a man of remarkable interest and varied
intelligence."
"How is it that he has been so long believed dead?
What reason does he give for having deserted his
father, and for not communicating with him even by
letter ?"
"Those questions must be answered by some one
better informed than I am. I only know that Albert
Trevor is now in London, professing to be furnished
with such evidence as will entitle him to the fortune I
believed yours. His lawyer has already notified your
uncle of these facts, and I had a note from him this
morning, stating that Mr. Trevor will be prepared to
submit his proofs of identity to him during the present
week. I thought it best to inform you before the last
steps are taken which will produce so great a change
in your future prospects."
While Mrs. Chard spoke, she sought to read the face
of her step-daughter, to see the effect this unexpected
announcement produced; but Rose bowed her head
upon her hands, and remained silent many moments.
Her mother passed her hand caressingly over her
shining hair, and waited for her to speak. At length
she looked up with a faint smile, and said—
" For one so young as I am, I am afraid you will
consider me very mercenary, for I cannot quite recon-
cile myself to the thought of relinquishing my fortune
even to one who asserts a better right to it than I
possess. I cannot bring myself in a moment to believe
in the validity of this claim."
"Be assured, my child, that the proofs of his iden-
tity will be rigorously examined by those whose duty
it is to guard your interests. All that remains for us
is to submit to their decision."
"Do not misunderstand me, mamma. If this man
is really the heir, let him have his inheritance; I would
not withhold it if I could; but he may be practising a
fraud to gain wealth."
"My dear, his claims will be so severely sifted that
he will have no chance to succeed in such an attempt.
In the prospect of this loss, you feel the natural regret
of one on whom life opened so auspiciously."
" Ah, mamma, do not believe that I am thinking of
myself more than others. By this blow our plans for
the benefit of the needy are rendered comparatively
useless. You have taught me the noblest use I can
make of wealth, and I feel a pang when I think that
my fortune must pass into hands that will probably
spend it only in reckless self-indulgence."
"Darling child, we will still be able to spare the
widow's and the orphan's mite. We shall possess a
sufficient income for the rational enjoyment of life.
Blessed with that, what right shall we have to complain
even if our superfluity is taken from us ?"
"None, none. I feel it, Mamma Amy; and now the
first surprise is over, I can look on the possibility of
losing it with calmness."
Rose quietly arose, and again stood beside her bird,
but his melody was unheeded; her face was serious,
Mrs. Chard thought almost sorrowful, and she regretted
the effect her revelation had produced. She had
believed her step-daughter too young and careless of
worldly interests to be thus nearly touched by the loss
of fortune ; but she could not fathom the source of
the regret felt by Rose; the poor child scarcely ad-
mitted it even to herself.
Deep down in her young heart lay nestled a dream
of generous, unselfish love, cherished from childhood,
until it had unconsciously became a portion of her
very being.
Young Willie Ashton, the son of a widow lady in
narrow circunistances, who dwelt near their country
house, had been her companion, playmate, and pro-
tector in all her childish difficulties. He had lately
obtained his articles as a solicitor, and commenced the
practice of the law in the great world of London with
a good prospect of succeeding, after years of struggle
had imade known his talents to those whose
appreciation of them could help him on in the race of
life. The true secret of Rose's indifference to her
first offer might have been found in the fact that it
seemed to her an absurdity for any other man to make
love to her so long as Ashton showed, by every act of
his life, that he looked forward to a time when it
would not be presumptuous in him to offer the posi-
tion he could win to her acceptance, together with
the true heart that had never wandered from its alle-

giance.
Without the aid of spoken words, Rose knew all
this, and the hopes of the two blended in that future
which was to crown them with life's dearest joys. By
this blow all her bright castles in the air were sud-
denly shattered; for she knew enough of life to be
aware that years must intervene before her lover
could rationally hope to be in a position to marry a
girl endowed with so slender a portion as would now
be left to her.
But Rose was too young, too hopeful, and too
ignorant of the real adversities of life, to remain long
cast down. She struggled successfully against her re-
grets, and presently turned her sweet face towards
Mrs. Chard, wearing its old smile of affectionate trust.
She approached her mother, and tenderly placing her
arms around her, kissed her as she said—
" Pardon me, best of mothers, that I betrayed a
momentary disappointment at the turn my affairs
have taken. I submit myself to the will of Him
who doeth all things *ell.' He doubtless saw that
this fortune mightrbecome a snare to me, and he wisely
wrests it from me. After all, Mr. Trevor is certainly