Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1847-05-13

husband strove to alleviate her suilerings, and to
f persuade himself she was getting better. lie
f. had obtained employment for few weeks only,
and he denied himself almost the bread neces-
sary for subsistence, that he might procure her
more luxuries Fanny Wilson, by the sale of
her watch, had paid their rent in advance, and
purchased many articles of comfort for the inva-
Iid and Frederick, on his knees, had blessed
and thanked her.
/ 1t was bright and lovely day in the early
spring, and the windows Of Mary Cranes room
! were open to admit the sweet south breeze
Fanny Wilson sat beside her bed, eagerly wait
ing to hear her speak, for on that day Mary had
promised to tell her the long expected history of
their past lives.
Draw nearer to me, dear Fanny, and give me
your hand next to my husband aud child, your
place comes in my heart 1t seems almost i'm
possible that only three months have elapsed
since first saw you, my sweet benelactress-
but must hurry with my story, or my strength
will fail. 1t may be satisfaction to you to
know that he you have kept from want, and
treated as a brother-that my husband is noby
born
TO that should have sworn
yes, he is indeed noble, not only by the &C
, cdent Of birth, but noble in every sentiment of
his manly heart. He is the only son of Lord
Frederick Crane, and daughter of his fathers
tenant Lord Frederick left Scotland while his
son was yet a child to reside in England, near
an only and beloved brother. My father to
whom he was much attached, followed him thith-
or, and thus were Frederick and thrown con-
stantly together His father seemed to have no
fear Of our intimacy, for he thought his son
partooIl too much Of his naughty nature to mar
ry so far beneath him. My mother died before
we left Scotland, and not long after Frederick
and had secretly pledged our vows, my poor
father was suddenly called to his last home
leaving me without relation in England
Frederick pi.ied my desolate condition, and be-
sides, he dearly loved me. We had never been
j separated for any length of time since early
chiIdhood for even during his college days he
always paid two long vacation visits in year.
Need | tell you, Fanny, how loved him!-
Waking or sleeping, there was to me hut one
beloved face on earth And when he proposed
that we should marry, and leave that part of the
county until bis father should be reconclIed,
y most joyiuily did consent. had no idea then
= of the wrong have since so deeply felt. My
j. mother came Of proud Scotch family aud
= had never been allowed to associate with our
, equals in fortune but was always taught it was
. among the noble of the land was to look for
an alliance Can you wonder, then, that the
. difference in rank between Frederick and my
I self should not have been letby me-
: Well we were married privately, and crossed
= over to Scotland until Frederick could write to
. his father, and as he hoped, receive permission
to return Never shall forget the answer to
his letter-that bitter curse has withered my
> young life, and broke the heart his son so Condy
> cherished ! feel it is for me that Frederick is
> an alien from his flthers house-but for me, he
u might now be filing the station he was born to
grace, instead of wandering a Wretched outcast
y in strange land--and know, now that it is
: too late, how deeply we have wronged that poor
old man. The high hopes he had formed for
his only son blasted at one stroke, and that SO
" unexpected But his apparent indifference to
: our intimacy, the high regard in which he held
my father together with Superiority Of our fami-
" ly over the other tenants, had all deceived Fred
. erck. He expected Ieproof and censure, but
never such an awful curse. We staid in Scot
II land year, but my relations were few and poor
{ and Frederck's would not help us, for fear oil
y d!spIeasing his father. After the birth Of our
u child, we determined to come to this country,
where, at least, we would be unknown, and per-
" haps be able to obtain employment, until ouI
% father should reIen and call US back as Fred
ericI was sure he would do in time. He cannot
y be so hard-hearted,' my husband would say; iii
> is not his nature, bear up yet little while, my
i Mary, and all will be we'll
y The evening on which | met you, was the
first and only time ever begged in the street
d but necessity compelled me- My husband was
. i'll, and had not wherewiih to make him a bow
{ of soup
+ You could not consider it degrading to beg
for hmP
. Mary Crane turned quick and scrutinizng
glance upon her young companion, but Fanny's
: face was shaded by her fallen hair; and after a
y few moments the invalid continued,
e Heaven is my witness that would beg, work,
% starve for him, could but give back that he has
lost for my sake And so it will be, Fanny
: My death will be the peace-ohering, ard he will
II return to his fathers house, with a crushed spirit
j and an aching heart, know; but time will soft
en- that, and the past will take the semblance Of
dream.
'Oh, do not speak so, dear Mary cried the
u now sOhbing oirl svou will vet live to no han.
" py.'
9 4 shall be happy Fanny, for my past follies
d have been forgiven by One who judgeth not as
II men Judge, and my home will be among the
y angels,
The exhausted Invalid sank back upon her
pillow, and for many minutes there was no sound
. in that room, save the sobs Of the deeply affect
u ed listener, AT last, with apainful effort Ma
ny Grgme turned again to her young friend and