The daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1863-1864, 1863-12-11

life had departed. But not SO: ioi, VIII W.
sndden effort, she again raised herself, ana
crisd for pen and paper. lsaw an open
desk ON the table, and Immediately procur,
ed the necessary materials: She selzeo
the pen, and with great difflcuity wrote
these few words:
SaI am dying-O Oh! why did ever leave
ron. INV husband? Receive my poor Jane
she is our own child, the child OF your own ,,
| uiIa ~ ~ i Il NJ ALICE G."
"Witness," she grssped, and made slgn
to the doctor and me. She thought, POOR
lady, that the paper would be of no use y! un'
less it was signed by two witnesses We
signed our names. and that seemed to please
her. Again taking the pen she wrote :.
"To Col. G.. The last testimony OF MS
dying wife" -,
She then gave us the address OF her
husbands sister, who would be sure to kn cW
where he was. Then, turning to us, she saio,
entreatingly: -, .r
. owe no friends; take care of her till she
finds Ter father. Will you2 Will your
she continued, in the most implorlng &C.
cents. 80
The doctor stood still, but, filled with
pity, exclaimed.
II will protect her till she finds her
father"
And then seeing an expression OF doubt
pass over her face, l added;
Nv mother and sisters will take care OF
her."
Her face frightened exceedingly as l said
/ that, and then she tainted. She recovered
for q short time, to bless her child and ole;
Her last words were, my own my beloved
childp'
AS the last breath left her mother, Jane
G. uttered heartrending cry, and clasp
cd the dead body to her heart. "My moth
] er! oh. nv mother" she continued sobbing
convulsively, and wailing her loss in par
oxysm of grief. The doctor and l withdrew
into corner Of the room, and consulted
what to do One thing was certain, we
could not leave the poor girl there alone
But what were we to do? The doctor was
an old bachelor, with no female friends,
but had mother and two sisters, and to
them l resolved to 60 at once, and leaving
the doctor to stay till l returned, fastened
away.
found my mother and sisters sitting up
for me, as they always did after party, to
welcome me home. l told them the strange
tale in as few words as possible, and ended
by telling them the poor girl had mo
friends" and we must do something for her.
Their sympathy was now thoroughly aroused
and nv mother and sister Annie at once
prepared to accompany me-
" hen we arrived we found Miss G.
still kneeling by the dead; but more quiet.
My mother gently raised her, and drew her
away from the sofa. The poor girl looked
up with tear dimmed eyes into my moth
err's face, and chung to her as if for protec-
ton. Ny mother was greatly moved, and
folded the motionless girl in her arms. The
poor thing was atlast SO overcome by grief
that she tainted. We got her round by the
usual restoratives, and it was easy, in her
weak state, for my mother and Annie to
get her to bed.
Some weeks had passed away. My moth
er had written to London, to Col. G-'s sis
ter, for his address, and received cold and
distant reply, giving, however, the desired
information.
She resolved to keep Miss Gin Edinburg
for some time to recruit her strength before
she went though the trying ordeal OF
neeting her relatives. She was staying
with us, and my mother and sisters tend
ed her with the most affectionate care. 1t
was pleasure to do anything for her, for a
more patient and grateful creature never
lived than poor Jane G..
The funeral had been gone about with due
decorum, and her death inserted in the 10
cal naners AZ Mrs. Colonel c.
When Jane was more composed, she told
US her history so long as she could remsm
Der. For many, many years they had lived
in Orkey with an aunt OF her mother. This
aunt died and left pretty handsome for
tune to her niece. Then Mrs. c. and
Jane came to Edinburgh. They hired a
furnished house and engaged two servants.
The cook had not been three days in the
house when she showed her character by
getting quite drunk. She was, of course,
at once turned off They were thus left
with only one, and she, taking advantage OF
their position as strangers, behaved with
incompatible insolence, and then decamped
with good deal Of money and some of the
ladies clothes. The very day this wicked
person went away Mrs. c. took the 1T,
and thus, being alone in the house, Miss
c. rushed wildly out to look for some
one to send for doctor, and found me-
We at one time thought it would be best to
take Miss c. up to London; but we Ill
timately decided on writing to her father to
come for her, and telling him all particulars.
In answer to this letter came tue father
, himself. had all interview with him be-
fore he saw his daughter, and gave him the
letter from his dying wife. He seemed
deeply moved by it, and told me his his
tory.
He had married, when about forty, a
young aud beautiful bride She was just
seventeen, and had the foollshness and pet
tedness of a spoiled child; he was twenty
three years older, aud. moreover, of ma
ture stern, harsh and, unbending. What
wonder if the union was an unhappy one2
She lived with him only three years. At
the end of that time, provoked by the stern
nature of her husband and his fancied neg