Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1848-03-10

ing as she slept, told that II would not be
long before the child was motherless. AE
ter while the boy moved, and spoke indis.
tincily; and William retired a siep lest he
should starie him. Henry awoke, and saw
the stranger.
'Are you The gentleman whom asked
10 come and see my mo'her" cried the
boy at once
Mr. Blair put his finger on his lips TO ST.
lence the child, but Marion was already half
aroused
who are you talking 10, Henry1" she
said feebly.
"To Mr. Blair, mother, the gentleman
you said / must go to If you were very i'll !;
and went this morning, only you did not
know il"
"ls he here's William Blair here 2"
almost shrieked Marion, raising herself on
her elbow.
William advanced and took her hand
without word. and thus me, two who
had once so fondly loved each other-the
same face was before their eyes--ihe same
voice fell on their ears-but the life Of love
was gone-forever. Marion looked long
aud fixcdly at her former lover, then burst
into tears
Have you forgiven me-" she said
"liow kind Of you TO come TO me-"
"You have a right TO my kindness" an.
swered William. in gentle and soothing
tone. "Iou are my cousin--why did not
Mrs Chadwick send for me before r.
20! do not call mo so--call me Marion
let me forget everything but old times
A nd T.sb rasl
makes me think Of him :" cried the sick
woman in passionate grief.
William Gained her with kind words,
aud her boy chung round her neck careless
ly, until Marion's excitement passed away,
and then she was able to talk of the past
and present. She spoke Of her husbands
death without tears-letting fall no reproach
or complaint. Yet William needed no ex-
PLANTATION to guess that divers death was
blessing And now she had come home
feeling that the mortal arrow was fixed in
her own heart, 10 leave her boy with those
who knew his mother. She had learned
William Blair's after-hisiory, and, guessing
from the letter he wrote to her on her faith
ers death, that he felt no anger against her.
had told her child 10 60 to him as their only
friend.
William talked OF removing her to bet.
ter house, where she would be more care
| fully attended to.
NO" said Marion; and flush OF lin
gering pride came across her brow. II am
not so poor as lhat-l have enough TO last
my poor remnant OF life but promise me
to take care Of my Henry"
II WILL" said William, earnestly And
now ! must think Of you. Emma-that is
my wfe-shall come 10 see you Tomorrow. 1"
Marion shrunk from this proposal
"But what will she think OF me ?! does she
know"
"She knows nothing-she shall know
nothing-excepi that you are my cousin
And now farewell, forget all the past. except
/ that | was once your friend-your fathers
friend, Marion l'-and William kissed
with bro,herly regard, the hand that was
held out to him, spoke affectionately to the
child, and went AWAY TO his own house.
He kept his promise and il was not un.
I'll years after. when Marion's beauty was
long mingled with the dust. that William
Blair told his gentle wife of the ties which
had once bound her to him. Aud Mr..
Blair's sweet and compassionate nature re
GREETED not for moment, but rejoiced tha
her cares sooihed the dying moments Of the
woman her husband had once loved. AnC
when she saw how tenderly and fsiherly HI
reared up TO manhood the son Of Oliver ant
Marion, making no difference between
Henry Chadwick and his own children, III,
wife felt not one jealous pang, but raihe
loved and revered the more noble naiur,
which had been wronged and which ha'
forgotten and forgiven so much.