Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??, 1859-05-14
SATURDAY, MAY IA, 1859.

do you see in Agnes, except the deepest love
for me3
'tshe can pretend it very well before youl
face-she drew cunning in with her mothers
milk
"Pretend it Mother, explain yourself
I'll not listen to this from YOU"
|" But il could prove that she likes another
better than you, though she's going to marry
yOu-n
"You'll drive me mad, mother" cried
Robert, who, like all weak-minded persons,
was of a suspicious and credulous nature.
'.There's no use in telling you what Eve
heard for / suppose YOU would not believe
me, you're so much blinded by your love fol
Agnes"
"But tell me what did you hear, exclaimed
Robert, with an earnestness and energy which
showed that the passion of jealousy, though it had
been slumbering, was strong within him.
'1ts no matter; there's no use, say, in telling
you.''
II must hear it, he cried fercely.
"Wel we'll, was foolish enough to think you
had little spirit 1 thought you would be blind, no
matter what she did--but see now you have the
spirit of your mother in you.
| 'Tell me at once what you are alluding to, and
| then you'll see If haven't spirit.
'There's many girl as well as Agnes casts an
eye upon that recruiting ser' in L.. 70
be sure he's fine fellow-ne's the half Of the head
taller than you, Robert, I'm thinking there no
farmer has chance for the heart OF a girl when a
/ redcoat comes in her way"
| s'Now, mother, think that's only toolishness
Agnes is not the girl to do that-when did ever she
| speak to that sereantN
knew YOU wouldn't believe me; no, you would
not believe it, if you saw her with your own eyes,
sitting drinking, her and that SERGEANT, themselves
| two, in publichouse in the town, when she went
last Friday to buy the ribbons for the dress in
/ which she's to he married to you.
| She uttered this unfounded slander of poor Agnes
in manner so apparently sincere, that the credu-
lous mind of the intended bridegroom was struck
with forcible conviction of its truth. Like all
persons whose passions of an evanescent nature,
his first emotions were strong He could not speak
/ for some moments.
~ shall go to her-I shall tell her, if she has de-
ceived me, that
He was rushing hurriedly to the door, when his
mother seized him by the arm; he was so accustom-
ed to be led by her, that without any resistance he
followed her to draw him back to the fireside.
"Sit down, sit down, Robert dear, my own darl-
ing Robert it's not worth your while to think SO
much about girl like Agnes there will be ladies,
dying to have you yet, maybe Wait till you hear
what I'll tell you next"
The vain, though wounded heart of the young
man, was considerably soothed by her words. He
re-seated himself in silence.
Mrs. Murphy drew out the Goals, which were
merely glimmerng with life and proceeded to light
q CANDLE which she placed on small table close to
where Robert was seated 1t was the most meagre
of candles, and burned with mocking CLEAN of
yellow light that was scarce clear enough to show
the thick rust of the battered old tin candlestick
from which il arose
fIts poor place we have here, sure enough,
said Mrs Murphy, standing up and looking all
around the ill-furnished and comfortless kitchen.
"It's not the like of this place I'll have you, my
darling Robert, living in all your life and with
only poor schoolmaster's daughter for wife
Listen to me, now, and don't let Agnes have a
thought of your heart Robert will all the poverty
that's about us here, I'm rich woman-l have
hundreds, maybe thousands"
Robert looked on her in bewidered amazement.
"Dont misdoubt my words; am rich-yery
rich for waman Of my rank y
~ know you got all the farm produce sold for
number of years and might haye-but then my
father always had regular account of the quantity
ofeverything, and the price it brought given to
him and l don't see how you could grow so rich,
Grow rich by our farmi' exclaimed Mrs. Murphy,
with a tone and gesture of cOntempt-'grow rich
by what could stenl without your fathers know,
ledge from the miserable fifty ncres half made up Of
bog and mountain, and paying the best part that
made off into the greedy pockets Of the lanord
No, no; I'd have been poor woman this day, If
had waited for money coming that way"
'Well how is it-how have you become rich?"
inquired Robert, looking as fhe was under the in
hluence of dream
Mrs. Murphy made no answer, but she drew
from out her pocket worn and badly-soiled, but
well-iilled purse, and emptied heap of gold coins
on the ill-kept deal table before Robert
" It was all could get in gold of the interest to
day. I've liking for gold, somehow that is il
cared about money ut all-but ii never did me any
good yet
At the same moment she put into the hands of
her astonshed bank bills to the amount of four
thousand, and between six and seven hundred
pounds.
thing of it will be yours, ifyou do as wish you,
GLOW did you get it, mother2-what do you want
me to do?n
Robert that money came when it could do me
no good if it had only come four years sooner-but
then, he might have married her after ALL ii he had
married me- it would only have been for my money
no it couldn't have done me much good in any
way"
She said this in dreamy, solioquizing tone, as
if unconscious that she had listener.
II am saying, Robert" she continued looking
on his face with slight start of uneasiness, as i'll
fearing he had heard some of the thoughts which
she far from the habit Of revealing ''that
came to me when did not care about any |
thing else in the world except yourself was three
years married to your fhther when hatmoneyc came;
remember the night got the first news Of it; ii |
was just summer evening, something like this but
earlier in the night; was alone as was this eve
ming before you came in except that had you in |
farther had gone to bed, for John Murphy was an |
old man even then; had sent the servant girl to |
sleep, too; did not care for any company but you
YOU holding you to my heart was the only plea
sure had in the world | did not know how
il could be pleasure either for l did not care
for your father nor for myself nor for anything in
or out of the world would not have thought Ihad
living heart, like other people, only for you well,
there came knock at the door--a neighbor woman
who was coming home late from the town.
Here, Mrs. Murphy, said she is letter for you,
and they say it'sfrom London. She stood waiting a
little to see if would open and read it to herr but
was not in the habit ofspeaking much, either with
women or men then, and she soon went away. |
read the letter it was to tell me that my brother
Daniel, who was dead in London, had left me his
money, for the sake of old time, he said, when he
lnd were children, and used to be beat together,
and cry together and lament about it together.-
Poor Daniel I recolet that he and were not the
hvorites in our family. We were neither the eldest
nor the youngest, and somehow we happened to miss
the indulgence that is likely to be bestowed on the
irst and the last ofthe family.
The end of it was that Daniel went away none
If us knew where, when he was seventeen, and
1ad never heard what he had done with himself
intil the letter came. grew sick when saw he
1ad made me his heir-that was the first feeling it
gave me. had married old John Murphy. 1 had
heart so black, that all the light of all the gold
ind silver in the world could not cheer it. had
ost all the relish for everythng-t was all one to
ne whether the sun shone, or the rain rained. l
night have taken you, and, with my brothers
egacy went away to some place of the world far ]
rom this, and tried to forget the life Ihad escaped
,ut had not activity of mind to do that and
besides when it came to my leaving old John Muir
,hy I could not do it. He had come and offered
ne his love when another had forsaken me, and
when was sick, and miserable, and poor, and tor
nented in my own family, he was the only one to
,ffer me his heart and house. He was kind to me