Delaware Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1843-1874, 1873-11-06

Ernestines pale, dark face grew scarlet, and
from her eyes flashed the fire Of indignation;
but when she spoke, her voice was soft and
calm. M
Pardon me, Miss Clara lid not intend TO
hurt you'
Il shall not pardon you, you eIwious monster!
It's pity you had not ptchfork in your
clumsy hands, TO shove through my BRAIN
Leave the room this minute
Certainly, Mics Clara; but belive me, you
possess nothing that would deem Ii worth my
while to envy; and as for putting the hair-pin
through your brains doubt your being trou-
bled with such q commodity = And, with fash
Ing eyes and burning cheeks she left the room.
Once In the hall, she fairly few down the
stairs, and seeing the door Of the library ajar,
she entered, closing Ii after her.
u Sinking into q largereasy chair, she covered
her face with her hands, and sobbed and moan
ed piteously.
ooh, dearl wish was home, far from that
cross, heartless Miss Claral She's cross to
everybody, even her mother. hope and pray
the gentleman she expects to day will take her
away with him, and then old Mrs. Richardson
and shall have peace.
'Auntie, dear Auntie, you are over the dark
sea, and cannot see how am tre&ted. God
help me, a poor friendiess orphanv
God pity you,' said low, kind voice.
With q startled cry, Ernestine sprang to her
feet, as she heard these words.
Before her stood young gentleman. At first
she thought she knew him for his face was very
| familiar but second glance told her she did
not, and she was about to speak when he said
There, do not trouble yourself child. l know
you thought yourself alone, but am glad was
here to hear your sorrow-it makes the burden
| lighter when shared with sympathzing friend.
| Sit down, and tell about it,
| Ernestine felt herself drawn towards this
kind and noble looking person, but her proud
! sensitiveness forbade her making a confident OF
| stranger; and with whispered apology, and
the excuse of telling Miss Clara Of the arrival
| of her visitor she withdrew.
A week had passed away, and Mr.. Gilbert
had learned from Mrs. Richardson that the
young girl who filled the situation Of companion
and dressing maid to herself and daughter was
Ernestine Sewell, sweet tempered young or
phan, whom they had taken with them from
New York
And from Miss Clara he had learned that 9he
| young person was anything but all agreeable
| companion
Then came the voice of his pure heart, and
lie knew he loved the beautiful Ernestine
| One evening he came rather earlier than
usual and found Ernestine in the garden read
| ing letter
And, know somebody who has good news
fom home = he said, softly as he drew neal
her.
Ernestme looked up. She knew his voice
and felt pleased to meet him, but sad was he
dark eyes, and she replied mournfully
d" Yes, have news from home; but, oil, dear
| il is not good news. Poor.tuth. poor Ruth
and ing way to her grief, she cried bitterly
Is She sick or dead p asked Mr.. Gilber
softly.
She is dying, and am not near her
walled Ernestnc.
But you can 20 to her. 10 morrow. a
noon, steamer leaves for New York. 1t i
not there your sister lives?
'Ruth Is my cousin, aud her home is no
in the city OF New York, but papa used /,
live III the city. Oh, cruel, cruel father. I,
have your child roaming FROM home. thus
and ErncStinc cried more bitterly than ever
Mr.. Gilbert stood still for few moments
then running his slender fingers through hi
nut brown curly hair, he walked mp and dow
in deep thought, and at last exclaimed, as i
to himself,
What an absurd idea! Anna said Franl
Sewell was childless, and yet the though
haunts me Then turning abruptly TO tn
weeping eirl, he said Miss Ernestine. wa
your fathers name frank Sewell?'
Yes, answered Ernc>tnc in astonisl
mcnt
| And good God, | am enjoying wha
should lichtiully belong to you +
why, Mr.. Gilbert, you cannot be the Gil
bert L. Smyth to whom
| Yes, Miss Ernestine, am sorry to sa
that | am, The change of my name wa
| MieS { lara taeta