Connecticut western news., 1872-05-03

And mamma took me lovingly into her

And mamma took me lovingly into her arms.
 "Octavia, ought we to ask this sacri- fec from you2"
 "Nobody asks it, mamma it is my own free-will offering. And oh, mamma, I could not look Dr. Mortimore in the face when I remember that his bill has lain un- paid for six nonths ]"
 And mamma, also remembering this sternest and most incontrovertible of facts, had no more to say.
 ct seems so strange!" said Mss By dexter. "The idea of your being my maid, you aristocratic- looking little thing And you used to write all my compost tions for me at school, too! Dear, dear, only to think of it! Take care, Octavia that bunch of curls comes in first under the braid, yod know. And how came You ever to think of it ?"
 "Nonsense I cried, briskly. "The long and short of it is that 1 want .noney and you do not-so don't let's say any more about it..
 Papa talked vaingloriously of "my daughter in New York y" Poor papa he had so little left to be vainglorious about. Mamma remained wisely silent, and Jean cite, who was addicted to hero-yorship, firmly believed that her elder sister was the noblest girl in the world. While Dr. Mortimore- at least so 1 afterward heard l-contracted his brows, and thought that people who could afford to send their daughters to pass winter at the Grand Hotel might at least pay his very moderate bill
 The month of March was wearing itself away, and April sunshine was pen cling the sky with golden threads, interwoven with crystal lines of rain; when one day I as tonished Dr. Mortimore by walking into his office. He looked up from his books in some surprise.
 "Miss Hadleigh! I supposed you were in New York.'
 "I have returned with Miss Bydexter. Next week we go on to Washington"
 Dr. Mortimore made no spoken answer, but there was a peculiar, inscrutable ex- pression in his eyes. Was he thinking of mamma and Jeanette on the treadmill of patient poverty at home? Was he fancy ing it modern edition of Cinderella and the proud sisters Involuntarily I spoke, with rising cclor and tremulous voice
 "You are entirely mistaken, Dr. Morti more; but it is not my province to ex- plain.''
 " said nothing"
 {" But you looked great deal"
 "Please to interpret my looks," he said, with an amused face.
 My cheeks burned, and bit my lip to repress undignifed anger. I laid down a pile of crisp, rustling bank-notes on the desk beside him.
 "Be so kind as to receipt your bill, Sir"
 He obeyed in silence, and I walked away, as he afterward told me, "with the air of an eighteen-year old Semiramis. :" And
 TThe rest of the MS. is in bold, mas cufine handwriting, as different from Octa- via Hadleigh's delicate up and down strokes as it is-possible to imagine.
 And Octavia to the contrary notwith- standing, l shall take the liberty of finish ing this confession after my own fashion.
 called that evening on Miss Bydexter. The fair Cornelia was jubilant. never had pleasanter season,'' she declared. sI haven't been ennuee once. : Octavia is such charming company
 !" She is with you at present 2" "Oh, yes. She is my maid, you know" "Octavia Hadieigh your maid 2" , must have looked my astonishment, for saw it's reflex in Miss Bydexter's face. "Why, to be sure. Didn't you know it ?o And Miss Bydexter, who is no ad- herent of the theory that silence is golden,' poured out tue whole story. "Of cou-seI wouldn't tell every one" 7 she said, rather guiltily, as if remembering some hitherto forgotten charge of secrecy. But l knew you would appreciate it t and she is 80 sweet, and they are 90 poor.'' "Is she at home?" asked. "No; she has gone around to her fath= 3 CTS. But expect her back every min. : ute."
 9 "I will go and meet her." said I. And l I went accordingly, thinking, with strange thrill at my heart, of that pompous, ego tistic old father who sacrificed them all SC regardlessly on the shrine of his selfish i ease; and the pale, patient mother, and 7 Octavia herself, the fairest and most outi- full of daughters. And l had believed her
 all this time to be butterfly of fashion g forgetting utterly the piteous exigencies ol , her home.
 y When I first heard of her going to New : York with Cornelia Bydexter I fully de.
 termined to put her away from my heart , Now knew how impossible it would have been. I knew that I had loved her all the
 while that was " forgetting" her so sys- tematically. met her in the rosy dusk, v as stately as princess, as beautiful as a f flower. q "Octavia," said, q have misjudged \ you. Will you give me ah opportunity te T explain ?'' : "Certainly, Dr. Mortimore."
 But there is question should like you to answer first.'' "What is it?"
 "Will you be my wife, Octavia ?' :, The question was asked ln a lowered u voice of intense suspense, was answered
 frankly, after moments hesitation. II will"
 ;. suppose "expIained satisfactorily 5 afterward, for Octavia understands al T T about it, but really don't remember how u or when it was done. But she is content and that is enough. '' Miss Bydexter had to look out for an !, other companion" and to this day ole U MT. Hadleigh firmly believes that Octavis l. was one of the bellies of New York society U in the season of l86-. # And so she ought to have been.
 A REMEDY,-An officer who was more