New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1852-09-06
NUMBER 100.

% But you had probably some motive in COM
ing here? Have you no relations or friends'"
mo, none,'' the woman cried, suddenly burst
ing into tears; "I have no friends, no friends
in the wide world''
A gentle hand was laid on her shoulder; a
gentle voice whispered some soft words in her
ear and the woman looked up into Gabrielle,s
dark eyes, and murnured something between
her sobs Then they were all silent for few
moments.
81 think you are o widow" Miss Vau1 ask
ed, gently, when she had become calmer
eyes, she answered, slowly, as though the
word had been dragged from her, go much it
seemed to pain her to speak it.
siAnd have you any children
a moments pause, and then another ssyes,"
hardly ineligible from the choking sob which
accompanied it.
Miss Vaux was silent, looking inquiringly
into the womans face. 1t was partly turned
from her, partly shaded with her thin hand;
and large eyes looking up with strange agon-
lied look into Gabrielle's eyes, her pale lips
moving convulsively. Gabriele's face was al
most as pale as hers her look almost as full Of
agony.
! Miss Vaux glanced from one to the other, at
| first with pity; then suddenly quick change
came over her face; deep flush mounted to her
brow, she darted from her seat: and, calm as
she ordinarily was, her whole figure trembled
as she stood before them, with her fierce gaze
turned on them.
Pale as death, neither Of them speaking, they
| bore her passionate look quite motionsesa, too,
except that Gabrielle had instinctively clasped
the Widows hand in hers, and held ii tightly.
| "Speak to me- Gabriellep' Miss Vaux cried
and her voice, harsh, loud and quivering with
passion, echoed through the room; tell me
who this woman is ~
From the widows lips there burst one word
one word like a sudden bitter cry Joanna p'
She stretched out her arms imploringly, try
ing to grasp even her daughters dress !; but Miss
Vaux sprang from her, and stood erect in the
centre Of the room; her tall figure drawn to its
full height; her burning eye still turned with
unutterable anger upon the crouchlng woman
near her.
sYou have dared to do this You have dared
to seek us out here, where we had hoped to hide
ourselves from the scoffing of the bitter heart
less world: where we had tried by acts of char
ity, by suffering, and penance, to blot out the
recollection of the shame that you have brought
upon us Are we nowhere secure from you :
What have we to do with you: You cast us off
years ago."
:" Sister, sisterr' cried Gabrielle's imploring
voice, g oh, remember, whatever she has done,
that she is still cur mother. Have mercy on her,
for she cannot bear this p
But sternly and coldly came Miss Vaux's an
swer:
&c Did she remember that we were her chill
dren when she left us /? Did she remember that
our father was her husband: We all loved her
then-she was very dear to us-but she turned
all our warm love into bitterness. She destroyed
our happiness at one stroke, forever; she blight
ed, without a pang, all the hope of our young
lifes; she branded us with mark of shame
that we can never shake off; she plunged an
arrow into the heart Of each of us. which lies
, fostering there now. Are these things to be
forgiven l tell you it is impossible! will
never forgive her-I swore it by my fathers
death -bed--never while live! Gabrielle, this
/ is no place for you Come home with me p
, s.Hear me- first p the mother cried, creeping
from the seat in which she had sunk back, and
covering, with hidden face, had listened to her
daughters words; Z" hear me before you 60!
5 have deserved every thing-every thing you car
say; but oh, from you it is bitter to hear it
: Oh, my daughter, listen to men' She flung her
self at Miss Vaux's feet, on the bare floor.
It 'You speak Of the sorrows l have brough
k upon you-the sorrow and the shame but hay
n they equalled what have endured' Day an
/: nght-day and night-through months an
J. years-fourteen long years-oh, think of it
o. have wished to kill myself, but dared not d
it; have prayed fervently to die. Oh, no, nj
,e stay and listen to me! My last hope-my las
,e hope in heaven and earth is only with you. Oh
Y my daughter! you say you loved me once; wi
/ not one spark of the old love live again: | vii
try yet once more to move you to pity. L hay
n not told you all. have not told you how, il
If my agony, | tried to find rest and peace; how
sought it every where-wandering from place t
place alone, in hunger and thirst, in cold an
q weariness in poverty and wretchedness find
i ing none anywhere, until at last, worn out wit
misery. | wandered here. And here l say
d Gabrielle, my beautiful child, my love, my dar
It ling!''
It The wan face lighted up with passionate low
n MS she looked at her who was kneeling by he
side.
N aShe believed me when told her of my sor
q row. She comforted with such sweet words tina
II they sank like healing balm into my soul, a
ID though an angels voice had spoken them. d
~ not take her from me %
Mother, do not fear,' Gabrielle's soothin
IA voice whispered; 81 will stay with you-did
IL not promise it,
n "Gabrielle !" cried Miss vaux. "Comc wit
me, and leave her. The tie that once bound |
,, to her she herself has severed forever; we hay
,e nothing further to do with her. Gabriel
come"
w 81 can not come! She is my mother I ca
NO not leave her.
* s.And are we not your sisters' To whom
YOU owe most! We have watched over y.
through your life; we have shielded you fro
sorrow; we have loved you almost with the 10
TX that she ought to have given you. You ha
or been the single joy that we have had for veal
It, Have you no love to give us in return for all
have given you: Oh, Gabrielle-my sister,
y. pray YOU IL, who am SO little used to entire
or any one, pray you for the sake of the love
have borne you-for the sake of the honor tn
X is still left us-for the sake Of all that you he
ou sacred-come, come back with us!
A low moan burst from the mothers lips;
it Gabrielle, weeping bitterly, rose from her kne
>" and threw herself into her sisters arms
nd 90 Heaven bless you for this y Miss VauX G
claimed; but, interrupting her in brok
ay voice. Gabrielle CRIED - You do not understa
~ me. l cannot return with you! No, sist'
.ile Anything-anything else will do, but l C
.k- not forsake her in her penitence! Can you
eb t yourself' Oh, sister, will you not take h
'as home'''
IN 81 will not p
at. There was long pause, broken once or twi
,ed by the deep sobs that seemed bursting the N
TIERS heart. Then Miss Vaux spoke agai
gh earnestly, even imploringly
Gabrielle, | ask you once more, for the Ia
me time to return with me. Foolish child, thil
yh, what you are doing. You are bringing do,
ost your fathers dying curse upon your head--y
or are piercing the hearts of those who love y
led with new and bitter sorrow; you are closing
out wilfully closing-against yourself the door III
ep. is still open to receive you; you are maxi
ain yourself homeless-a wanderer--perhaps be
7ed gar Oh, my dear sister Gabrielle, think OF
nd more--think of all thist'
nit ssSister spare me further; your words wou
or me; but have decided, and / cannot retu
mt | with Won NV mother's home is nv home