The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1860-08-21

become known, that Miss D., by winch
initial we shall designate the stranger, should
Immediately become the guest of his slater,
who had lately became the bride Of a clergy.
man at no great distance, and to whom ho
was ut that time on a visit. To her no said
he would relate Tho whole matter, IN he could
depend implicitly on her prudence Miss
s. joyfully and thankfully accepted this
offer, and a coach was forthwith ordered, and
thither they proceeded. Davenport on their
arrival at the vicarage, lost no time in inform
ing his sister of his recontre, and MS she pos
sessed Il heart no less kind than his own, she
willingly installed Miss S. as her protege.
The latter, Of course, was soon transmitted
into her propria persona; and "a she entered
the room in her female attire, the heart OF
Davenport palpitated "a though the love-shaft
Cupid had been "loosened smartly from his
brow" and had already empierced his b"som.
And if, in the vanity Of youth, he thought the
oyes Of Miss s., as she expressed her
thanks, beamod upon him with an expression
warmer than that of gratitude, will he be
bla red
The next morning they set out for London.
On his arrival there, after having informed
the relatives of Miss S Of her peculiar sit
uation, he wrote An expostulary letter to her
father The reply was furious demand that
his daughter should be Immediately and un-
conditionally restored to him. The letter con-
clnded with sund,v threats OF vengnnco Of the
law in case of refusal. Davenport was now ut
a loss how to proceed; having got int"li
gence that Mr.. $ was posting m To- L..
don, he rihwith determined IL avoid y m hg
posting back to his sisters lcavin. ~" .Xg-
pcrate father TO dssipate his rage IA best 'e
might. The latter on his arrival in London,
male immediate inquiries for Davenport for
whom, much to his chagrin and disappont-
mcnt. he could learn no t!dngs. He then
Nent to the relations Of his deceased wife. but
they could give him no satisfaction. Through
the medium OF his lawyer, he was directed to
the country residence of Davenport, whittier
he proceeded. On his arrival there he WAS
again disappointed, for he found the house
merely in the keeping of the steward, who in.
formed him that his master had not resided
there for the last six months.
In similW fiuitless and anxious inquiries he
spent nearly n quarter Of year; for no one
thought Of directing him to the vicarage
where the sister Of Davenport and her spouse
led very retired life. lie was in despair
It seemed as though his daughter was lost to
him forever. and for the first time in his life,
as this thought crossed his mind, he felt like
a father. He was sitting in his study, up.
braiding himself for the uukini coldness with
which he had treated her, and ponderng up
on what step he should next pursue, when a
servant entered and presented him letter.
1t was from Davenport, requesting, in the
most respectful terms, that he would take in
to consideration the unhappiness which must
necessarily be the lot of his daughter, if he
sacrificed her to the arms Of one whom she
must ever dislike and despaise. 1t concluded
by requesting the favor Of an interview at the
vicarage, direction to which was added.
As Mr. $ perused the letter some Of
his former harsh feelings returned spon him.
1t was with difficulty to be endured, that a
mere stranger should tnke tic liberty of die.
tatIng any part of the conduct which he was
TO pursue with respect to his daughter. He,
however, lost not moment in proceeding
to the place Of interview. 1t was about three
o'clock on the day subsequent to that on which
he had received the letter, that he arrived at
the vicarage Of. On his entrance he
was ineiatelv conducted by the attendant
to "A drawing room, where the first object that
met his sight WAS his daughter, standing at a
window. leaning fondv on the arm of gen.
teman, whose noble feature beamed with love
as he gazed, with delighted expression, upon
her face. On pcrceiving her father, she rush.
ed forward, and knecling at his feet excam-
ed
Forgive me- forgive me, my dear father !!
Oh, sir, fear have now doubly offended
youw
Mr.. S violently curbed the flow Of af
tection which would have prompted him to
raise and embrace her. and said stcrnlv, :" |
forgive YOU, Emily, on condition that YOU i'm
mediatey give your hand to the Earl of
c.; not otherwise"
The gentleman before mentioned, who hal
stood "a calm observer Of this scene, now step
ped forward and bending the knee beside her,
said Your condition is impossible 10 be
performed, sir We both need yonr pardon
for having. though unavo'dabla, procee led
without your appreciation. Your daughter,
sir, is now Mrs. Henry Davenport, my wife"
Mr. s. stood for few minutes amazed.
is this so, Emily = he at length exclaimed.
Even so, sir" faltered she hiding her face
on the white arm that rested on her husbands
shoulder
"And pray sir" said Mr. s., the man
Of the world prep'ndoring and pceping out
through his struggling afircti n, what may
be your income and prospects? Are they of
sufficient weight to balance the large fortune
my daughter will bring YOU, and which | am
sorry to say, / have no control over"
"My income, sir," said Davenport, raising
Emily from her knees, "is clear four thou
sand per annum, my family. political connec-
tions, and influence are powerful and exten.
sive."
The last clause settled the point.
Emily" said Mr.. s., give me your
hand. Until you parted from me, knew
not how much | valued-how much | loved
you; and now find you to lose you again.
However, Mr.. Davenport, your hand: there,
take her. God bless you. May you be hap
py."
Davenport, with tears in his eyes, thanked
his future parent euthusiastical y, and Emily
threw herself upon her fathers neck and wept.
Never was union more happy than this,
which was SO strangely brought about and
this true story will serve as one more instance,
added to tho many, of the romance o. real