The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1874-09-24
Why Uncle was a Bachelor.

fYou have often wondered. George
why it is have never married-won-
dered, and most probably rejoiced,
for. afgmy death, you know, the old
place will come to you, as it came to
me, free Of debt or ineumbrance. /
suppose you have attributed my con-
firTned bachelofhood to some disap
pointment in love in early lifo, eh !?
An, well III tell you the whole story.
1t may serve as q warning to you, |
was going to say, only [ do not believe
in one mans experience being of any
use to another. And as to warnings
bah they never serve. But, | am
in a retrospective mood to night, so
if you care to hear the story, you
shall.n ~
Ny Uncle George and / were stay
ing up at Barluig, small fishing
place of his in the Highlands, TO
which we resorted regularly twice
year for about fortnight, in pursuit
of salmon. l had lost my father when
was four years old, and since that
time his brother, my Uncle George,
had been my father in all but the
name. Indeed, think we were fonder
of each other than fathers and sons
usually are in these days.
1t has always been wonder to. me.
and to every one else, that Uncle
George had Dever married. Some
people declared that he had been hope
Iessly in love with the beautiful Ouch
esse de -, and it was for her sake
that he had remained single; others
limited at some entanglement; while
some maintained boldly that Sir
that l, his nephew, and heir presump-
tiye in the eyes of the world, should
look very foolish some day on the
baronetey, and Wyville Castle being
claimed by the SON of my uncle's old
college bed-maker.
But to all these stories / turned a
deaf ear. I knew enough of Uncle
George to feel sure that there was not
a shadow of truth in all of them.
My uncle often spoke of the Duchesse
de - as what she was-one of the
handsomest women and finished CO.
quotes of her day. But felt certain
that he had never cared for her; he
would not have talked SO much about
her if he had. And as to an entan-
clement or secret marriage, why,
knew all my uncle's affairs as well as
1 knew those of Charlie Bainsford,
my bosom friend and brother officer,
who had been gazetted as ensign and
lieutenant in the First Foot Guards
the same day as myself, about two
months before. No; whatever reason
my uncle may have had tor remaining
single, it was one that he had CAREFUL
ly guarded from the whole world. /
was glad that was going to hear It
at last.
/ lit my pet pipe, about the cOloring
of which was so anxious, and, draw
ing my chair near to the fire, prepared
TO listen in comfort.
81 was about thirteen, George, when
[ first saw Nora O'Byrne. l was at
Eton, then, and she was a foWer-girl
in the streets of Windsor. The first
day I ever saw her-I rememb Der it as
well as if it were yesterday--it was
bitterly cold March afternoon, and she
hotel in the place, selling vioIets. To
this hour cannot stand seeing a girl
selling violets in the street. l gave
her all the money l had in my pocket
and my heart with it.. 1t is no use at
tempting to describe her. All des7
criptions of real beauty are futile.
ODC was sSlluPI Iys lHC lONclIOeb CA1tO3 DIS
she was afterwards the loveliest wo-
used to see her. / contrived to meet
her quietly, | did all could for her.
and it went to my heart to think that
l could do SO little. l used to give
food clothing it was no use giving,
for her mother took it away again di-
rectly, and pawned it to buy gin.
"Ineed scarcely fell you that Nora
was no common beggar-giyl. Her
father had been a well-to-do work
man, and during his lifetime she bad
been to school. and had learned. to
read and write; but after his death
they had been reduced to beggary,
through her mothers fatal propensity
for. strong drink. For nearly two
years of my life l spent every shilling
l could spare upon that child, and
loved her as 1 have never loved any
other human being. And what is
more, | kept my boyish love a secret
from every one-no easy matter, as
you may imagine.
" When l was fift, 9 u | had bad at
tack of typhus feN e.. ] was staying
at Wyville at the time of the sumner
vacation with my uncle, Sir Rupert.
he udu u poIAcet hOlAOI vi slChHesss
and of fevers especially and directly
was taken i'll he left the house to pay
a visit to some friends near Windsor.
He promised me that when the school
met again he would ride over, and
give the fellows at my house the
latest accounts of me.
81 did not return to Eaton till after
the Christmas holidays. and Nora was
gone-where, Iaeonld not learn. In
vain made inquiries of different peo-
pie in the town who knew the girl by
sight. All l could learn was that