The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1871-10-22
FYor tho Morning Star and Catholic Msssenger.tc
ELLEN FITZGERALD
NOVEL
Rsvsssutiy Dedicated to the Memory of RICHARD
DALTON WILLIAMS, the lrish Exile and Poet,
8. D. ELDER.
(Continued.)
CHAPTER TX,
IA NOvEL.)
8. D. ELDER.

said % though to console botk aching hearts.
You have lost your mother, dear, and NV
against whose will must not murmur.'
But even as she spoke, tide Of resfstleks
memories rushed across her mind, and leaning
eobbed forth . mothers yearning cry:
Ny son, my son 20 longe1 to have you
near me in mine age and widowhoodw
mind in all his youthful hopes and aspirations,
when 10 had planned to remain always near
his mother, to comfort and assist her! Now he
s.a ass The ms
tars, his curling hair floating round him and
his once strong arms thrown wildly out for
help. If such visions came to shock and grieye
her, how keen the anguish which they brought
to her who loved him with mothers love !!
Aunt Polly came once to the door, but Soc
ing the poor widow overcome with grief, went
back to her kitchen, shaking her head mourn
fully and saying to herself in sympathizing
aPoor Mist Poor Mis-, The Lord knows
best, but it seems mighty hard at fust-mighty
Al Last the widow GAINED herself and spoke
ON other subjects. INT. Davis was here q few
so highly Of my George that felt more proud
Of him than ever. Mr., Davis is good man,
with q noble, generous heart"
Eilen's silence gave consent to all the praise
bestowed upon him.
His own life," continued the widow, has
not been . bright one. / have understood
that his mother was q hare. hearted, money
loving creature who turned him out to earn
his living before he was twelve years old. She
has always taught, OF rather tried to teach
him, that money in this world is power and
well not live. He went to sea at q very early
age, but he has kept the freshness of his youth
about him, and is as tender-hearted as
child"
Do Won know his mother 70 asked Ellen.
"I do not, my dear. He told me the lit
tie know. She never had q welcome for him
in those hard years, unless he brought her her
coveted his silver, not his love; and only
cared to see him rich, not happy"
How Ellen pitied that sad chiid-iife, that
drcary, homeless manhood!
He does not speak of her unkind!y," said
Mrs. Brown. "He says she loves him in her own
strange way, and that MI her hoardings are to
make him rich and happy. Poor mother" he
said the other night, in order to leave me
money at her death, che is impovershing her
life and mine of all sympathy and joy"
Ellen eympathiZed with his loneliness, but
the remembrance of his bright face, his fash
ing eye and ringing voice, made her feel that
however rude the storms might be, he could
bear their shocks right manfully.
She spent the whole of that day with Mrs.
Brown, helped her Tearrange the contents of
the precious trunk, and saw her close the lid
at last, locking it carefully, and laying aside
the key; emblenatic, Ellen hoped, of the widows
future life, when her lonely heart should lay
aside it's precious memories of sorrow, closing
itself beneath tue hand of resignation to every
faith that in the casket of eternal life, her
treasure was secure.
Stay and eat some waffies," said Aunt Pol
Iy as Ellen entered the kitchen to bid her
humble friend goodbye. "Do stay, honey, and
take tea with Mis- Jim win see yon safe home
and it is not far you know"
A cosy, little supper, o bright room, kind
words and faces, and real nice waifies! What
o temptation to the lonely girl as she thought
of the cheerless evenings ut home, where NO
social meal waited her coming and no kind
greeting from her aunt ever fell upon her ear.
Aunt Polly opened the waffle iron, poured in
the bubble-covered batter and thrust it into
ind hurried off on her way home.
Her aunt was on the point of locking the
door when Ellen pushed 10 open but no word
Of blame, no comment of any kind passed her
lips as Elen excused herself for the lateness
Of her return.
Z" Mrs. Brown was so sad, Aunt Margaret,
that / stayed to cheer her up, ana the time
slipped away without my perceiving it,
It makes no difference" was the cold, stern
answer.
1t was this strange indifference on her aunt's
part that Ellen found SO hard to bear. She
would have been thankfal for one cross word,
one single exclamation of surprise; but this
this total want of sympathy in all her feelings
mndc her sad and disheartened.
Was there no corner in that woman's heart
where the orphan girl might find little
warmth, was ;here not one spark of affection
eft, from al RE glowing Goals of her uncle's
oyeS
She sat down OF u chair silent and shiveriug
It the new sense of desoiation that came over I
ter.
Hels w;S not IA cold, defiant nature that /
and use a y and meet the blows oil fate with
hide and ssli-reIiaHce; but gentle, tender