Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1866-08-04
MIR. THoMPSON'S UMBRELLA.
(COncIuded.)

(COncLuded.)
[ suppose it was not Jessie's fault
that her husband was my aunt's heir
at-law but found it very hard. Poor
dear aunt, she always did mean to make
a will in my favor, and she never did
Mr.. Norris behaved very handsomely, l
was told. He gave me the piano which
had been bought for me, few other
articles of no great value, and all my
aunt's wardrobe. He kept her jewels,
which were fine. and the furniture, for
which, as be said truly enough, I had
no use. Moreover, he allowed me to
remain in the cottage till Lady-day !;
though perhaps, as he could not live in
two houses at time, and must pay the
rent whether I stayed there or not, this
was no such great avor after all. God
forgive me, l fear 1 was very sinful
during the dark days that followed. l
had some friends who did, or rather who
said, their best; but there was one who
never came near me-. who gave me no
token of his existence, who had no kind
word for me, who let me struggle thro'
my hard trial, and who never offered a
helping hand He might at least have
written, have condoled with me in my
sorrow, but he did not And yet he
W in the neighborhood. He was Of
ten at Mr.. Norris house. Jessie her,
self told me so. True, he had business
to transact with her husband; but still,
how could he do it?
He did it, and he did more. Mr.
Norris was thrown off his horse one
morning and brought home dead. Jes-
sic became a widow, and a poor one,
said the world. Mr.. Norris was not a
rich man after all, and he left many
debts. 1 only went to see her once. l
found her cold, callous and defiant, un-
der her infiiction; yet l would have
gone again if Mr.. Thompson had not
been Mr.. Norris executor He had
business to settle with the widow. and
l could only interfere besides, 1 could
not bear to see them together. 1t was
very wrong and very useless, but it was
so. Mrs. Gray often came to see me
| cannot say she comforted me much.
She gave me world of wearisome ad-
vice, and told me much that 1 would
rather not have heard. What was it to
me now, that accounts kept him so often
and so late with Jessie? They were
both free; and if he chose to forgive
her and marry her, and if she chose to
marry once more for money! say it
again-what was it to me?
And yet [ suppose it was something,
after all; for when Mrs. Gray left me
one Afternoon, in February, l felt the
loneliest being on this wide earth. She
had harped again on that hateful string
that Mr.. Thompson seemed quite
smitten with Mrs. Norris. "And what
do you think, my dear?" she added !;
che thought you were gone. He seemed
quite surprised when 1 said 1 had seen
you on Sunday. 'What, is she not
gone ? he asked-'gone to London p
NO indeed! What should she 90 to
London for p He did not answer that,
but, from som ething he said, I saw he
thought you were engaged to be mar
ried 4 wish she were, poor dear ? I
replied; 'it is a hard case to be so
young and SO lonely I have no doubt
he thinks so too, and SO it is to prevent
Mrs. Norris from being lonely that he
goes to see her so often" Thus she
ratified on, stabbing me with every word
till at length she left me to my misery
| sat looking at the fire; it was bright
and warm, but my loneliness was heavy
upon me; besides, it had been showing
and the gray sky and white garden and
silent air had something both lone and
chill in them Yet 1 was not quite
alone. Early in the winter I had taken
in poor half-starved stray dog. and,
though he was but shaggy half-bred
cur, l had made pet of him. He had