The Oxford intelligencer., 1860-09-12
= = From the London Family Herald.
| BASENESSf REQUITED, - {

10 pay debt incurred during the long and
fatal illness Of Mr.. Burleigh, iIp hope Of en-
ployment the mother and daughter moved
to the metropolis. Here they encountered
the usual fate Of the strangerIPoor, alone and
helplessin the seethipg, selfish erowd--fought
the grim fight with the, fend Of poverty
till in the weary struggle, Mrs, Burleigh sank
at last, the victim of hopeless illness, a new
burden upon Lilians young shoulders, ,,o +
ui Chance at last led the poor gil 70 the
house of Mrs. yernOn, The lady, attracted
first by the sorowful beauty Of the girls
face, and her quiet demeanor, became inter
ested in her story, accompanied her, home, TO
verify it, and became from that day the best
and kindest of friends to the widow and her
child. Employment, enough was obtained
among her friends to remove all sense of de-
pendence from Lilian's mind. Her charity
was bestowed in a manner pot to wound the
sensitiveness that conld not endure beggary.
Her own physician lent his skill to -soothe
Mrs. Burleigh's departing days, and when
death had released Lillian from her charge,
this kind friend took the orphan to her home.
Lillian had lived with her friend two years
when Bernard Osborne, Mrs. Vernon's broth
er, came home from India. To see the sweet,
graceful girl who instructed his sisters child
rem, aud was his sisters friend, in simple
mourning, was TO feel strange, unwonted
interest in her. He was often at his sisters
house, often saw Lillian, and at length gave
evident signs of his admiration. That she
avoided him only melted him to moro de-
termined pursuit. He was the first man Of
the world, fluent, accomplished, that Lillian
Burlcigh had ever seen. How he impressed
her young heart! How plainly he wrote his
image upon its virgin pagesl Ere she half
knew her danger he had become the light of
her eyes, almost the lie Of her souls. But
she did not yield readily. She resisted all
his protestations, all his offers after putting
him to every test she could devise, until find
ing his purpose still unaltercd, and bis love
even more ardent in expression, she at last
yielded TO the wishes, the demands Of her
own heart, no less than to his entreaties, and
promised to become his wife, Once betrothed
to him, she rcvelled in the sweet dream of
love, and cast all fears aside-the future no
more dreaded, the past forgotten.
Three months later came strange, unex-
pected summons to the death-bed of Walter
Burleigh, her uncle. This man had neglect
ed and despised his brother, had refused ull
aid to the widow and orphan, and when Mrs.
Vernon, who had learned something of him
on inquiring of Lillian about her friends,
wrote to him during Mrs. Philip Burleigh's
last days, his only response had been pitt
full sum Of money, extorted rather by the in
fuence of Mrs. Vernon's name, than by any
kindly feeling. But when he was dying, he
bethought him of his niece, the sole person
in whose veins his own blood was running,
and summoned her to his side. lie died,
and Lillian found herself heiress of all his
wealth.
Something, perhaps the strange feeling of
pain that it brought her--perhaps the de-
sire to be received once more as she had ever
been-kept Lillian silent in regard to her
new wealth. She wrote to Mrs. Vernon that
her uncle had remembered her in his will,
but in manner that conveyed no idea of the
truth. To Osborne she did not write at all
for, strangely enough, his letters had ceased
about the period of her uncle's death, and
after writing once or twice without receiving
a reply, she was forced to wait until time
should solve the mystery. It but rendered
her more impatient, as she chafed under the
long delay. ~ rTDnH
At length she was at home; for so she
had long learned to call Mrs. Vernon's house.
At length she was slowly descending the
stairs to meet her lover-slowly, because with
the impatient JOY that would have sent her
flying down the staircase was struggling that
terrible but dim fear. Why had he not writ
tent Why had he delayed until the second
day of her return was well-nigh pasti She
had spent the two days alone; for the Yer
mons had been called into the country by
some gathering of their family.
He stood in the centre of the room, hat
in hand. He had evidently no intention of
remaining. As she approached him he
bowed, but did not look at her offered hand.
"Bernmd!" she said. He bowed again.
"Will you tell me what this means r
alt means that / am here in answer to
your notes of yesterday and Of this morning"
he replied. ''one would have suflced to in
form me of your return; but / remembered
that you had seen little of the world, knew
little Of its ussges.l Can I do o0anything for
your
Tel me what this meansT said Lillian.
why does my betrOthed husband receive
me in this manner r
"Since you must know, / viii tell you. ]
am betrothed to you no longer. Ny silence
should have told you that You viii re-
member that you were reluctant to become
engaged to me; you arayed before me all
a. I'LL. ro..oos aoainst our rnarriaue