The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1870-09-22

SO poor Mrs. MarchmOm IS gone at last ="
1t was from the executors of Miss Penroy's
distant cousin, formally and briefly announce
ING her death. which had taken place in one
of the West India Islands some months since
but of which the melancholy news,n as the
was not entirely unexpected, as Mrs March
mont had been for some time slowly fading
out of the world 4 victim to hereditary con-
sumption.
Ieaving one child, son. Slowly repeat
ed Blanche. leaning her cheek on her hand,
and looking down into the fiery culver of the
white hot Goals. 'POor little fellow! he
must feel nearly as lonely and desolatc as I
do only | have one advantage-I have at
least a sufliciency of this worlds goods; and
this orphan child must be thrown pcnniless
and alone ON his own resources, for if re-
member Alright, Mrs. Marchmont forfeited all
the wealth of her first marriage by her sec
ond alliance with the poverty stricken LAWYER
whose death plunged her into such bitter
mourning That was genuine love match
vet how much grief and tronble it brought
with it, leaving one child, IL son?' Why
should ! not adopt the stray waif, and make
it a business or my life to cherish and comfort
him | have no object in existence; there
is one that Providence itself seems to point
out to me-
Once more she rang the bell. with q fresh
color growing in her cheeks, and new
light in her eyes.
Bring in my writing case Immediately
Sanderson, and get ready to take a letter to
the post for me rs soon us possible"
The old servant obeyed, wondering at his
mistress unwonted energy, and yet well
pleased to see some of her old animation re-
turning.
IT was . very simple and unconscious let
ter that Blanche Penroy wrote to her ''far
away cousin's'' executors from the fnllncss
of her heart.
Il shall never marry now,n she wrote,
land it seems to become my plainly indicat-
ed duty to undertake the care Of this orphan
child Of Mrs. Marchmont's. With your ap-
proval, therefore, propose to adopt, and
endeavor, rs far as in my power, to supply
the place of his lost mother. You may al
first deem me young to undertake so grave
and serious responsibility; but | was nine
teen last month and am very much older in
thought and feeling than my years Of
course at my death the child will inherit the
property which was left me by my deceased
parents"
Il hope my cousins executors are like the
nice white-headed Old lawyers one reads
about in novels,n said Blanche to herself as
she folded the little perfllmed sheet of pink
paper, land not cross old Judges, talking of
'expedency' and 'appropriatcs; for L do
want somebody to love and care for; and
somehow have a sort OF premontion that
this little fellow will be nice and rosy and
loveable | think I'll teach him to call me
''aunty,"
Just y week subsequently, a prim legal
note was received from Messrs. Alias & Cor
pus. the deceased lady's executors. stating
that "they saw no valid objection to Miss
Penroy's very laudablc projects, and that, in
accordance thereto, the child of The late Mrs.
Marchmont would arrive at Miss Penroy's
residence on the following Saturday night"
''Satur,ay nieht-and this is Friday"
calculated Blanche, with new brightness
dancing in her hazel eyes. "Oh, how glad
| shall be! S;,ndcrson, ten Mrs Brown to
have the blue room fitted up Immediately
for Master Marchmont. and you had better
90 Yourself to the depot, with the carriage
at five tomorrow afternoon, to meet him."
Eyes, maam,7 said Sanderson, stolidly.
The appartion of q great unruly boy tramp
ing with muddy boots on the velvet carpets,
and haunting the house with ball and
marbles and lung splitting haloes, did not
possess the charm to Sanderson's eyes that it
seemed to his mistress. And even patient
Mrs Brown remarked with a species of cN-
asperation, that ''shc didn't see what put
this freak into Miss Blanchc's head"
Saturday was Il day Of hail and tempest,
and softly falling snow, and by five O'Clock
the drawing rooms We're lighted, and the
crimson silk curtains closely draws, to cX-
clude the stormy darkness without Six
times within the last fifteen minutes had
R1on nbn IocI-oI Of hnr Uatcb c Shn
stood by the fire waiting to hear the return
ing carriage wheels She was dressed in a
rich China blue silk dress, with pearl pin
and ear drops and little point lace at her
throat and wrists, and the color in her cheeks
and the golden glinincr in her bright hair
make her, unconsciously very fair to look
upon.
80, | hope he will like me-" thought
Blanch, with the instructive yearlng for
love that comes to every woman's heart Us
the door opened.
''IIere's the young gentleman, Miss" said
Sanderson, with half suppressed sound
between q laugh and u snort.
But instead Of Il child seven o. eight years
old, q tall appariton stalked in, something
over six feet high, with a'black moust&che,
and merry hazel eyes blimming over with
mirth. For an instant Blanche stared at
him as if she could hardly credit the evi-
dencc Of her own sense.
"Gilbcrt.'
"Exactly. You wanted to adopt me, and
here | am"
"No, but, Gilbert
''Yes, but, Blanchc!'
'.You are not Mrs. Marchmonts son?'
Il am-by her first marriage And al-
though | am by no means the penniless in
FAINT you seemed to supposed, as all my
fathers wealth comes to me, l am quite
willing to be adopted particularly as you
are not married to Walter Birmingham"
Blanche struggled between her tears and
laughter, uncertain which could best express
her feelings, but Gilbert Evering drew her
tenderly towards him..
''lf you adopt me, dearest, it must be for
life. Nay, do not hesitate-our happiness
has been too much at the mercy of triiles.
You will not retract your offer"
s.Well, after all,' said Blanche demurcly
"all wanted was some one to love and care
for. and
And | shall so very we'll in that capacity
eh ?'
And Sandcrson, who had been listening
diligently at the door, crept down stairs to
inform Mrs Brown that 'thcy were going
to have new master !"
The Philadelphia Post, in Il letter from
Bucks County, tells the following story o
woman's work: