New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1869-05-23

nall SO uTeaIy W ueA boAOlO 40 UHSJ S00HA0u
now.
al shall be an old maid" thought
Blanche, as she walked up and down in
the freight darkness of her quiet drawing
| room, with her dimpled hands clasped
behind her waist.
al never cared for any one as cared for
Gilbert; and dare say shall keep cat,
and grow fond of green tea, and scandal,
and the sewing circles. All well-a.day
this kind of life can not last forever"
She rang the bell with very impatient
jerk.
care there any letters, SandersonY
zone, mann; it came by the evening
post only few moments since"
Blanche sat down by the FIRE, opened the
letter and commenced to read.
"Black-edged and black-sealed. So, poor
Mrs. Marchmont is gone at last"
1t was from the executors of Miss Pen
roy's distant cousin, formally and briefly
announcing her death. which had taken
place in one of the West India islands,
some months since, but the melancholy
news OF which so the letter ran, had been
only just received. 1t was not entirely ul-
expected, as Mrs. Marchmont had, for
some years, been slowly falling out of the
world, a victim of hereditary consump-
ton.
Leaving one child, a son." slowly re-
peated Blanche, leaning her cheek on her
hand and looking down into the culver of
the white, hot Goals. "Poor little fellow,
he feels nearly as desolate and alone as
| do; only have one advantage"
81 have a suficiency Of this worlds
goods, and this orphaned child must be
thrown penniless and alone on his own re-
sources; for, if l remember Alright, Mrs.
Marchmont forfeited all the wealth of her
first marriage by her second alliance with
that poverty-stricken lawyer, whose death
plunged her into such bitter mourning.
That was a genuine love match, yet how
much trouble and grief it brought with it,
leaving one child, a son. Why should |
not adopt the stray waif, and make it
business of life to cherish and comfort him?
have no object in existence; here is ore
that Providence seems to have pointed out
to me-"
Once more she rang the bell, with fresh
color glowing in her cheeks and new
light in her eyes.
Bring me my writing-desk Immediately,
SandersOn, and get ready to take letter
to the postof6ce."
The old servant obeyed, wondering at
his mistress's unwonted energy, and yet
well pleased to see some of her old ami
nation returning.
1t was very simple and unconscious
letter that Blanche Penroy wrote to her
"far away" cousins executors from the
fullness of her heart.
81 shall never marry, now" she wrote,
land it seems to become my plainly in
dictated duty to undertake the care of the
orphan child of my cousin, Mrs. March
mont. With y0ur approval, therefore, l
mean to adopt him, and endeavor, as far
as in my power, to supply the place of his
lost mother. You may at first deem me
too young to undertake so grave and
serious responsibility; but was nine
teen last MONTH and am very very much
| older in feeling and thought thar in years.
OF course, at my DEATH the child will In
herit the property which was left me by
my dear deceased parents"
II hope my cousins executors are like
the nice white-headed old lawyers one
reads about in novels" said Blanche to her
self, as she folded the little perfumed sheet
/ of pink paper, "and not cross old fogies,
talking of expediency and appropriateness
for do much want somebody to love and
care for; somehow, I've a sort of Fremont
ton that this little fellow will be nice, rosy
and loveable. think I'll teach him to
call me Aunty."
just week subsequently, a prim legal
note was received from Messrs. Alias &
Corpus, the deceased lady's executors,
stating that they saw no "valid objection
to Miss Penroy's very laudsble object and
| that, in accordance thereto, the child Of
the late Mrs Marchmont would arrive at
Miss Penroy's residence on the following
Saturday."
Saturday-and this is Friday,D said
Blanche, with new brightness dancing in
her hazel eye. "0h, how glad 1 shall be !
Sanderson, tell Mrs. Brown to have the
blue room fitted up Immediately for Mas
ter Marehmont, and you had better go
| yourself to the depot with the carriage at
FIVE O'Clock tomorrow afternoon"
"Yes, ma'am," replied Sanderson, some
what stolidly. The apparition OF green,
unfuly boy, trampling with muddy boots
on the velvet carpets, and haunting the
house with bali and marbles and lung
splitting hallOas, did not possess the charm
to SandersOn's eyes that it seemed to his
mistress. And even the patient Mrs
Brown remarked, with a species of exas-
peration that
''She didn't see what put that freak into
Miss Blanche's head
Saturday was day of hail and tempest
and by Eve o'clock the drawing-rooms were
lighted, and the crimson silk curtains
closely drawn 10 exclude the stormy dark
ness without. Six times within the las,
fifteen minutes had Blanche looked at her
watch, as she stood by the fire, waiting ia
hear the approach of the carriage. She
was dressed in rich blle China silk dress
with pearl pin and ear drops, and little
point lace at her throat, and the clear ROSY
tint on her cheek. She was, unconseiously
very beautiful.
Here's the little gentleman, Miss" SAID
! Sanderson. with q hall suppressed sounS
between q laugh and a snort
But instead of q child seven or eigh
} years old, q tall, handsome young gentle
man, something 0ver six feet, with q blacI
mouataehe, and merry hazel eyes, brim
ming over with mirth. For an instan
3 Blanche stared at him as fshe could hardl,
] credit thsevidence Of her own senses.
} "Gilbertp
Exactly You wanted to adopt me, an
J here am
I .'No, but Giibert-s
Z eyes, but BlancheI'
"YOu are not MFs. Marchmont's son r.
81 Andy her first marriage. Altboug
; am by no means the penniless infant 70
I seemed to suppose, Is all my father
' wealth comes TO me- ! am quite willin
{ | to be adopted particularly Is you are %
married to Mr.. Birmingham
: Blanche struggled between tears an
. laughter, uncertain which would hest 81
press her feelings bat Gilbert EVerin