Delaware tribune. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1867-1877, 1869-10-07

Mrs Darlington. "You accepted my pot
boy, and then, when / spoke to YOU, yo
gave him up, and took Charles Merride,
instead. IT | had not intcrfered, perhaps
would have been better; though, to be sur,
don't know what we should have don
with heap of children. And as for poe
John money, you know you have no NOR
real right to, no more than that other lady
who never saw him in her life."
"She has the best possible right to il
mamma, left it to her" said Ellen, anx
lousy, over her shoulder. 90, why di
you come here to vex us, when we were no
Interfering with you? beg of you not +
Trouble my mother any more, but go away.
=. Ihei, there was moment of hesitation
Mrs Nlerridew rose slowly from her knees
She turned round to me, not looking me il
the face. She said, in hoarse voice, "Le
| us go, and made a step toward The door
She was shaking as If sue had had a fever
put she was glad Was that possible? Sh,
had delivered her conscience-and nov
might not She go and keep the money which
would make her children happy? But sh,
| could not look me In the face. She moved
as slowly MS q funeral. And yet she woult
have 1pwn, if she could, to get safely away
janet, my dear" said the old lady
"come buck, and let us cad our talk"
Mrs Merridew stopped short, with start
as if a shot had arrested her his time sht
looked me full in the face. Her momenary
hope was over, and now she felt for the first
time the poignancy of the sacrifice which il
had been her own will to make.
Come bsck, Janet, said Mrs. Babing-
ton. " AS you say, il is not your money.
Nothing could make it your money. You
were always right feeling when you were
not aggravated. am much obliged to you,
my dear. Come and sit down here, and tell
me all about yourself Now poor John is
dead, she went on, falling suddenly into
soft weeping, like child, ''we ought TO be
friends. T. think he should die before me,
and should be heir to my own boy,-isn't
il sad! Aud such fine young fellow as
he was' You remember when he came
back from the University? What nice
color he had! And always so straight and
slim, like a rush All my children have a
good carriage You have lost your figure,
Janet and you used to have such a nice
little figure. When u girl is SO round and
plump, sue is apt to get stout as she gets
Older. Lo' at Ellen, how nice she is.
But then, 10 be sure, children make differ
ence. Sit down by ms here, and tell me
how many you have. And. Ellen, send
word to lhc huusc-agent, and tell him we
dout want now TO let the house and tell
Parker TO get luncheon ready little earlier.
You must want something ii you have come
from The country. Where are you living
now? aud how is Charles Merrdcw? Dear,
dear, To think should not have seen either
OF you for nearly twenty years'
But, mamma, surely, surely" cried
Ellen B.hington, "you don't think things
can he settled like This ?"
Don't speak nonsense, Ellen; every
thing is sei,hd d. said the old lady "Y0u
know always have the greatest confidence
In Jancrs good sense. Now, my dear, hold
your tongue girl like you has NO right
TO med,ie | always manage my own bus
iness. Go lo.k after luncheon, that is
your affair"
| do not remember to have ever seen a
more curious group in my life. There was
the old lady in the centre, quite calm, and
sweet and pleasant. A tear was still linger-
ing on her eyelash; but it represented moth
ing more than Il child's transitory grief, and
underneath there was nothing but smiles,
and satisfaction, and content. She looked
so pretty. SO pleased, SO glad to find that her
comforts were not to be impaired, and yet
took ii all ST. lightly, as a matter Of course,
as completely unconscious Of the struggle
going oA III the mind Of her benefactress as
world. AS for Mrs Mcrridew, she stood
specchless, choked by feelings that were too
bitter aud conflicting for words. ] am sure
that all the advantages this money could
have procured for her children were surging
up before her as she stood and listened. She
held her hands helplessly half stretched out,
ms II aching had been taken out OF Them
Her eyes were blank with thinking, seeing
nothing that we saw. but whole world OF
the Invisible. Her breast heavcd with a
breath halt drawn. which seemed suspended
halfway, as ii dismay and disappointment
hndered lis completion. Ii was all over
then, her sacrifice made ana accepted, and
no more about it and herse ( sent back to
the monotnnous struggle of life Ga the
other side Of the pretty old lady stood Ellen
Babingtou, pale and miserable, struggling
with shame and pride, casting sudden glances
at Mrs Mcrridew, and then appealing looks
at ME, who had nothing to do with it,
Tell her, o, tell her it cant be I she
cried al last, coming TO me. "Tell her the
lawyers will not permit it. 1t cannot be-"
And MerIidcw, toe, gave me one pitilul
look, k,-aud repcniing, but yet Then She
went forward and laid her hand upon the
cid ladys hand, which was like ivory, with
all the veins dclicately carved upon it.
Say, God bless us, at least. Say, God
bless You and your childlen,' once before
CO."
.'To be sure," said the old lady, cheer
fully. ''God bless GU, my dear and all the
Matilda has no children, you
know. | should like TO sec them, ii You
think it would not be too much for me.
But you aie not going, Janet, when it is the
first time we have met for ne rly twenty
years?'
81 must co. said Mrs. Merridew.
She could not trust herself to speak,
could ses. she put down her face and kiss
cd the ivory hand, ard then she turned and
went past me to the door, without another
word. | think she had forgotten my very
existence When she had reached the door
she turned round suddenly and fixed htr
eyes upon kllen. She was going away,
having given them back their living, with
out So much acknowledgment as if she had
brought Il n0scgay. There was in her lnok
n mute remoustIancc and appeal and pro-
test. Ellen BabingIon ircmbled all over;
her lips quivered as il with words which
pride or pan would not permit her to say;
but she held with both hasds mmo, able, 10
the back of her mothers chair, who, for her
part, was kissing her hand to the departing
visitor. Good by; come and see us soon,S
The old lady was saying checrfully. And
Ellen gazed, and Irembled, and said nothing.
Thus This sirangest Of visits came to an end.
She had forgotten me, as thought; but
when | came to her side and put my arm
within her reach, she clutched at it and tot
tered SO that it was all l could do TO support
her. l was very thankful to get her into
The cab, for thought she would have faint
I'd on the way But yet she reused herself
when l told the man to drive back to the
station.
''We must go to the lawyers first, she
said; and then we turned and drove the
busy London Streets towards the city The
clerks looked nearly baked in the Office when
we reached it, and the crowd crowded ON,
and monuton0us. One feels
one has no right To go TO such place and
take any of the air away, of which they have
20 little. And TO think of the sweet air
blowing over our lawns and lanes, and all
The un0ccupied, silent, shady places we had
left behind us. Such vain thoughts were
not in Mrs. Merridews head. She was turn
Ing over and over instead Il very different
kind of vision. She was connting up all she
had sacrificed, and how little she had got by
It, and yet was going to complete the sacri-
flee, unmoved even by her thoughts
/ confess l was surprised at the tone she
look with the lawyer. She said MIR. Mer-
ridew and myself with composure which
made me, who knew Mr. MerIidrw had no
hand in it, absolutely speechless. The law