Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1872-12-21

4 4GfEL GEEAlLI4 AlaAA 81 IL 10
as they did now. s.a-''- z
~ suppose shall be an old maid, ("
thought Blanche, walking up and
down in the firelit darkness of her
room, her dimpled hands clasped be-
hind her waist. 81 viii never care
for any one now as l cared for-for
Gilbert, and dare say l shall keep
a cat, and grow fond of her. All,
well-a-day! Life cannot last for
ever"
a dreary comfort for a girl of
nineteen summers.
She rang the bell with an impa-
tient jerk.
"Are there any letters, Saunder-
son?'
"One. ma'am; it came by the even
ing post, about five minutes ago."
"Light the gas then, and give it
to me-"
Blanche sat down by the fire and
opened the letter, suppressing a
yawn.
"Black edged and black sealed :
So poor Mrs. MarchmOnt is gone at
lastn
1t was from the executors of Miss
Penroy's distant cousin, formally
and briefly announcing her death,
which had taken place some months
since, but of which the melancholy
news" as the letter ran, had only
just been received. 1t was not en-
tirely unexpected, as Mrs. March
mont had been for some years slow
ly falling out of the world, victim
to hereditary consumption.
Leaving one child, a son." slow
ly repeated BlaDch leaning her
head on her hand, and looking down
into the fiery culver of the white
hot Goals. "POOr little fellow he
must feel as desolate as / do. Only
| have a sufticieHcy OF this worlds
goods; and this orphan child must
be thrown penniless and alone on
his own resources, for, if remem-
Der Alright, Mrs. Marchmont forfeit
ed all the wealth of her first mar
riage by her second alliance with
the poYerty-stricken lawyer whose
death plunged her into such bitter
mourning. That was a genuine
love match, yet how much grief and
trouble it brought with it, leaving
one child-a son! Why should not
adopt the stray waif, and make it
the business of my life to cherish
and comfort him? l have no object
in existence; here is one that prOvi-
dence itself seems to point out to
me-"
Once she rang the bell, with fresh
color glowing in her checks and
new light in her eyes.
"Bring me my writing desk inn
mediately, Saunderson, and get
ready to take letter to the post as
soon as possible"
The old servant obeyed, wonder
ing at his mistress unwOnted ener-
gy, and yet well pleased to see some
of her old animation returning.
"She does look more like herself
tonight, do Miss Blanche, than she
has for long time" he said to the
house-keeper as hewent down stairs
after Obeying the summons.
81 wish Miss Blanche would take
q fancy to some properly behaved
young man; it don't seem right that
she should live all by herself in the
big house so fOrlOrn-like."
The house-keeper nodded her head
sagaciously to Mr.. Saunderson's
proposition. She fully agreed with
him.
"Only Miss Blanche was too will
full ever to listen to a word of ad-
vice"
1t was very simple letter that
Miss Blanche Penroy wrote to her
''far-away" cousins executors, die
tated by the fullness of her heart.
Il shall never marry now," she
wrote, "and it seems to become my
duty in undertaking the care of this
orphan child of Mrs. MarchmOnt's.
With your approval, therefore,
propose to adopt him, and endeaVor
to supply the place of his lost moth
er. You may first deem me too
young to undertake so grave and
serious a responsibility, but l was
nineteen last month, and l am very,
very much older in thought and feel
ing than in years. OF course at my
death the child will inherit the pro-
perty which was left me by deceased
parents"
Il hope my cousins executors are
like white headed old lawyers one
reads about" said Blanche to her
self as she folded the little sheet of
paper, land not cross old Judges,
talking of 'expediency and appro-
priateness;' for l do so much want
somebody to love and care for; and
I've a premoninitiOn that this little
fellow will DO nice, rosy and lovea-
bic; think l will teach him to call
me aunty."
Exactly a week subsequently,, a
prim, legal note was received from
Messrs. Alias i Corpus, the de-
ceased lady's executors, stating that
they saw no valid objection to Miss
Penroy's worthy project, and that
in accordance thereto the child of the
late Mrs. Marchmont would arrive
at Miss Penroy's residence the fol-
lowing Saturday.
Saturday, and this is Friday, -
calculated Blanche, with new bright
ness dancing in her hazel eyes. o,
how glad l shall be- Saunderson,
tell Mrs. Brown to have the blue
room fitted up Immediately for Mas
ter MarchmOnt, and YOU had better
go yourself to the station with the
carriage tomorrow afternoon to
meet him -
eyes, ma'am.n
The apparitiOn of a great uuruly
| boy tramping with muddy boots on
! the velvet carpets. and disturbing
/ the house with balls, marbles, and
| halloes, did not possess the charm
/ in SaundersOn's eyes that it seemed
to have for his mistress. And even
| patient Mrs. Brown remarked with
| a species of evaporation, that she
/ didn't see what put this freak into
Blanche's head,
Saturday was q day Of hail tenn
pest and softly falling snow, and by
/ five o'clock the drawing rooms were
/ lighted and crimson silk curtains
were closely drawn, to exclude the
4 stormy darkness without.
Six times, within the last fifteen
minutes, had Blancee looked at her
watch, as she stood at the fire wait
ing to hear the returning carriage
wheels.
She was dressed in q rich China
/ blue silk dress, with pearl pin and
ear-drops, and a little point lace al
her throat and wrists; and the col.
| or in her check, and the golden
tinge in her bright hair, made her,
uncensciously, very fair TO looh
upon.
80, l hope he will like me"
| thought Blanche, with that instinct
tive yearning for love that enters
every woman's heart, as the door
opened.
Here is the young gentleman
Miss" said SaundersOn, with a hall