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

every klnu oil convenience and prettincsl
as now remarked, round that chair; th
i careful way in which it had been placed OF
OF the sun and the draught, yet in the al
ana IN the sight OF the garden, told Who'll
history of themselves. And now Mrs Mei
ridew's passionate sense that the alienatio
or the sons fortune from the mother was
!. thing impossible was made clear to me O
d once.
d "Whom did you say, Ellen ?" SAID the oil
!, lady, when she was comfortably settled il
!, her chair. ''Mrs. -? | never cltcl
I names. | hope you have explained TO tn
: ladies that am rather infirm, and can
stand. What did you say was your friend
= name, my dear?"
8 Her friends name! Ellen Babingion'
face llghtened all over as with pale light o
Indignation.
| 81 said-NIrs. Merridew," she repeated
, with little emphasis on the name. Ther
, there was pause; and the culprit who wa.
! at the bar trembled visibly, and hid her fac,
in her hands.
"Mrs. Merridew Do you mean Turn
me round, Ellen, and let me look at her.
said the old lady, with a curious catching Of
her breath.
1t was a change which could not he done
in moment. While the daughter turned
the mothers chair, poor Mrs. Merridew
must have gone through the torture of an
age; her hands irembed in which she had
hidden herself But as the chair creaked
and turned slowly ronsd, and all was
silent again, she raised her white
iace, and uncovered herself, as II
were, 10 meet the inquistor's eye. 1t might
have been different woman, so changed
was she; her eyes withdrawn into caves.
the lines Of her mouth drawn down, two
hollows clearly marked in her cheeks, and
every particle Of her usual color gone She
looked up appalled, and overcome, confront
ing, but not meeting, the keen critical look
winch old Mrs. Bubingtcn fixed upon her |;
and then there was again II pause and he
leaves ilutt red outside, and the white cur
tains within, and gay childs voice. pass
ing in the road without, suddenly fell
among us like bird
All y said the old lady, "that creature
DC. you mean to tell Inc, Ellen, that she has
had the assurance to come here? Now
look at her and tell me what mans sense
is worth. That woman's face tn ned INV
poor boys head, and drove Charles Merri-
dew out OF his wits Only look at her; is
there anything there TO turn anybody's head
now? She has lost her figure too; but to
be sure that is not SO wonderful, for she Is
forty If she is day. But there are you,
my dear, as straight as rush, and your sis
Ter Matilda as well. So that is Janet Sin
gleton, our governess? l wonder what
Charles thinks of his bargain now? | never
saw II woman so gone off. o Ellen, Ellen,
why didn't she come and show herself, such
a figure as she is, before my poor boy was
taken from us! My poor boy Aid 10
think he should have gone to his grave in
delusion about such u creature! Ellen,
would rather now that you sent her away"
"O mamma, don't speak Ike this cried
Ellen, red with shame and distress; "what
is about her figure? if til were all but
she is going away"
Yes, yes, send her away" said the old
lady. "You liked her once, but | don't
suppose even you can think there could be
any intercourse now. My son left all his
money to her, she added, turning TO me-
"past his mother and his sister. You will
admit that was strange thingto do. don't
know who the other lady is. Ellen, but |
conclude she is a friend ol yours. He left
everything past us, everything but some
poor pittance. Perhaps you may know
some one who wants house in this neigh
borhood2 1t is n very nice little house and
much better furnished than most. / should
be very glad to let it, COW that cant afford
to occupy it, by the year"
| Mamma, the other lady is with Mrs.
Merridew. said Ellen 8" do not know
her" and she cast glance at me, almost
appealing to my pity. rose up, not know
| ing what to do.
g Perhaps, my dear" | said, l confess
with iimidty, " we had better go away"
Unless you will stay to luncheon" said
the old lady. But forgot,--I don't want
to look at that woman any more, Ellen.
She has done us enough of harm to satisfy
any one. Turn me around again to my
usual place, and send her away"
Mrs. Merrdew had risen to her feet, too
She had regained her senses after The first
irighiul shock She was still glastly pale,
but she was herself. She went up firmly
and swiftly to the old lady, put Ellen aside
by movement which she was unconscious
OF in her agitation,a and replaced the chair in
its former place with the air of one to whom
such an office was habitual. You used to
| say always did it best, y she SAID. so, is
| II possible you can have forgotten every
thing! Did not give him up when you
asked me, and do you think will take his
money now? o, never, never 1t ought to
be yours, and 1t shall be. O. take it back.
and forgive me, and say, God Hess you
once again.
''Eh, what was that you said? Ellen,
what does she say y said the old woman.
II have always heard the Merridews were
very poor. Poor Johns fortune will be
godsend to them. Go away l suppose
you hicun " llloCh mt iiitcT all tiie reSJ you
have done. don't understand what you
say"
| Yet she looked up with certain eager
ness on her pretty old face,-a certain sharp
look Of greed and longing came into the
blue eyes, which retained their color as
that of youth. Her daughter lowered above
her, pale with emotion, but still indignant,
yielding not a jot.
"Mamma, pay no attention." she said
Mrs. Merrdew may pity us, but what is
that ? surely we can take back nothing from
her hands.
"Pliy! don't sec how Janet Merridew
can pity me. But should like" Mrs. Bah
ington went on, with little tremble of
eagerncss, "to know at least what she
means"
This is what mean," said Mrs. Merri-
dew, sinking on her knees by the old lady's
chair; that will not take your money.
1t is your money. We are poor, as you say
but we can struggle on as we have done for
twenty years; and poor Johns money is
yours, and not mine. 1t is not mine. will
take. Ii he had known what he was doing
he never would have left it to any one but
you."
So 1 think myself, said the old lady,
musing, and then was silent, taking no no.
tice of any onc.-looking into the air.
Mamma" said Ellen, behind her chair,
81 Can work for you, and Matilda will help
us. 1t cannot be. 1t may be kind Other
| but it cannot, cannot be. Are we to take
charity; to live on charity? Mamma, she
has no right to disturb you"
"She is not disturbing me, my dear" said
the old lady; ''on the contrary Whatever
might think of her, she used to be girl
of sense. And Matilda always carried things
with very high hand and never was fond
of her husband But am very fond of my
house" she added, after pause ''it is such
nice house, Ellen. think should die if
we were to leave it. / shall die very soon,
most likely, and be burden on nobody
but still, Ellen, If she meant it, you know"
"Mamma, what does it matter what she
means? You never can think of accepting
charity. 1t will break my heart"
'That is all very well to say" said Mrs.
Babington. "But have lived great deal
Longer than you have done, my dear, ard
know that hearts are not broken so easily.
1t would break my heart to leave my nice
house. Janet, come here, and look me in
the face. don't think you were true to us
Il H.. IL