Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1858-08-12

| NAAA~N SShNA AASNtO 0olllC III tilC SdLuC COIl
nection. It had never occurred to m,
until then that the fifth part of centu
ry had certainly produced a change il
my infant playma ate.
must confess that the ANTICIPATED
pleasure of our imaginary meeting wa
somewhat diminished by these refec
lions, and still more by those that fol
lowed. Since the night / ran ava,
from home | had never once heard O
little Sallie. For aught i knew, sht
might be dead; or, if alive, perhaps mar
rIed, and, if married, possibly rich, pos
slbiy poor, possibly the mother of chill
dren.
When, on reaching Bath, | found tina
she was entirely forgotten, ! felt in ny
heart that she was dead | went to tn,
burying ground, and wandered about 70
hours in search of her grave AT length
finding plain marble monument erect
ed to the memory of her parents, as
last token OF her filial affection, conclu
ded that she was still liying--perhap
with her maternal uncle, in the grea
metropolis.
Once in New York, l called upon :
Mr.. Whicher, who resided in Fifth ave
nue., and believing him to be the broth
er of Mrs. Pembroke referred to, renew
ed my inquiries.
Mr.. Whicher was about fifty years o
age, tall, lean, dark, sour and supercil
ious. His heavy blows were continual
lY knit, aud his small, keen black ewes
flashing from beneath the bushy impen
tdency, caught every movement and ev
cry meditation of the countenance.
lie looked keenly, almost savagely a
me, when / mentioned the name of Penn
broke, and l thought at the time, anc
now have no doubt, that he shuddered
But he quickly subdued the emotion
whatever it was, and became as stiff an6
cold as the marble statue that overlook
ed him from niche in the wall.
In some way, but how / cannot re-
member, for did not observe the fact
until afterwards, he managed to ascer
tain the extent Of my ignorance before
he replied to even my first interrogate.
ry.
'Nothing, sir" he at length said
with an air of wounded pride-''Noth
ing but your early acquaintance and
present solicitude could induce me to ac-
knowledge the relationship which is i'm
piled by your inquiries"
| was astonished, and this fact was
apparent in my countenance, for he i'm
mediately added: eff you knew all the
circumstances, you would not wonder
at my reluctance"
'May know them?" I inquired with
out pausing to consider whether the
question involved an impertinence.
"Sallie was only three years old when
you left homer" he said in reply.
''That was all,' | answered
"a pretty little innocent prattler?" he
continued.
"Yes," | said eagerly, pleased that
his question afforded an opportunity to
indulge a word in her praise. "She was
the leveliest child I ever beheld."
"Mr. Morgan" said he, gravely, "fol-
low the advice of one who can appreci-
ate your motives. Remember her as the
innocent little prattler you have desert
bed, and mourn her as dead" ai %
'Impossiblem / cried with stronger
emotion than / had before manifested.
of she be alive to others, why should
she be dead to me, the playmate Of her
infancy"
CALAIS! my dear sir, because she is
unworthy Of your respect, or even your
notice." he answered sadly.
CGXNbn Sc 1+9,3 T .,.l-o1 :.
licitude
Mr.. Whicher shook his head, as much
as to say beg that you will not insist
cit is better that l should know the
TRUTH" [ continued, ethan imagine
something a great deal worse"
''Worsem he exclaimed, with a pain
full contortion Of the countenance. 60
my God! worse than the truth you can
not imagine"
"What is it, sir?" l repeated, still
more eagerly. ,ass
"She is the daughter of my sister,
he replied with emotion. t'God forbid
that should publish her disgrace"
Mr.. Whicher, as he finished, bowed
his head, and hid his face in his hands
TO hide his modification. A shudder,
not such as | had before observed, but
more violent, shook his frame. A half
stified sob escaped from his lips, as if
the emotion was too strong for his mas
terry. -5p.- 55az
] waited few moments that he might
recover himself, but he seemed as i'm
movable as the statue in the Mich over
head. Nor did my rising to depart in
duee change in his position-though,
as | withdrew, he murmured through
his hands, convulsively, ''may God bless
you, sir, and preserve you from a like
misfortune" -A
CHAPTER III. 1
1t was my intention, when returned
to the United States, to spend the rest
of my days in the city of my nativity.
But as the hope of finding little Sallie
Pembroke lay at the bottom, it was
abandoned Immediately on hearing Mr..
Whicher's lament, or, as properly, his
implied accusation.
Having accumulated little fortune
enough if suitably invested, to support
me comfortably almost anywhere-I at
once determined to make New Y ork my
abode. found desirable homes at the
house of widow lady, who kept few
boarders, and spared no pains to insure
their comfort.
One morning-it was some months af-
ter my Interview with Mr.. Whicher-I
was sitting alone in my room, thinking
OF little Sallie Pembroke, who was new
er long at any time out of my thoughts.
1t occurred to me that | was in some
measure to blame for her downfall-that
if / had stayed at home and comforted
my parents, possibly I might have had
her to comfort me, and been a better
and happier man. And [ felt that it was