The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-03-06
MISCELLANY.
SOMEBODY'S DAUGHTER.
BIZ N. YOUNG
CHAPTER L

gave up the mastership of the hounds
some time before his death, and my ia
ther sold our town house soon after his
marriage. Ny mother was well-born,
and very pretty, but penniless, as my
grandmother had been before her. The
Brandons were noted for marrying beau-
ties. Whatever else they could make up
their minds to sell, they would not sell
themselves.
"Walter will have to retrieve the FAM
lily fortunes and marry an heiress," my
/ father used to saw when ! was vet quite
a child.
"AlI right, father" would reply care
lessly, "and mind you find one with a
precious lot of money, and then | can
keep pack of hounds"-mv sammunt
bonU,n of human felicity.
Out of a family of seven children
my parents only reared two-my sister
Constance and myself. Constance was
my senior by seven years. She married
a wealthy Scotch laird when ! was only
twelve-his name was Macintosh, of
Beghie-and then went away to live in
Sutherlandshire. l always spent my
summer holidays at Beghie; and as the
Macintoshes generally spent Christmas
with us, saw on the whole as much OF
! Conny as schoolboy brothers usually see
of their sisters.
When was nineteen l left Eton, and
went to private tutors in the Isle OF
Wight for two years. Mr.. Graham
only took two pupils. My FELLOWSHIP
dent was the son of very rich brewer
who had recently been made a baronet
Sir John Thornton.
During the first year of my sojourn at
Mr. Garnham's, Thornton and / were in
separable But when had been about
a year at Mr.. Garnham's an event oc-
CURED which, will not say estranged
is, but certainly tended to make Us less
dependent upon each other for compan-
ionship than we had hereto been: l fell
in love But must reserve the inter-
esting details for another chapter,
CHAPTER IL.
My lady-love was the protege and
adopted child of an old French
dressmaker residing in the isle. Cherie
Dupont's birth and parentage were in
volved in doubt and obscurity. She had
been deposited at Nine. Dupont's door
one Christmas Eve, some sixteen years
before I made their acquaintance. The
worthy old woman was fully persuaded
that Cherie would turn ont some day
to be lady of Consequence" she used
often to talk to me shout that Christmas
Eve: II heard a ring at the door, Mon
sieur Brandon, just as I began to make
my Creesmas poudin; my landlady had
just gone out-nobody at home but my
self l opened the door-I see no one
there-but on the doorstep large cor
BELLE, open at the top. l bring it into
my leetle salon, and | find inside thelovli-
est of bebes-my peerless Cherie. She
was dressed, monsieur, in a superbe pet
ite robe, trimmed with lace-real Valen.
cienness-deep as that" and she held NJ
her foreiinger, "and wrapped round in q
magnifque chale de Cachemire; and to
this chale was pinned an envelope con
tanning fifty pound note and slip ol
paper with these words: Take care OF
Cherrie, and whatsoever thou spendest
more, when 1 come again | will repay
thee So Cherries parents; Monsieur
Brandon, are not only great, but good
people"
; had my doubts on this point, but o
r course | kept them to myself. "And
has no one ever come again, MADAME
1 asked
She shook her head "No, and fol
eighteen months l heard nothing mor'
from Cherries parents. By that time
had left London, and had come to live
here, but l had given my new address
to the old landlady.
5 Gone day she sent me letter-fron
t Cherries papa, suppose-thanking m'
for all my bonte to this bebe, and beg
, ging that the cher enfant might be wei
i educated-a request that Monsieur cal
see has been carefully attended to-"
/ I assented heartily to this remark.
!. 4 send her to day y-school, monsieur, a
: soon as she could speak. Taught her th
b French myself, and she speak it as vel
!. as the English; and she plays the piano
and sings like an angel. Often do no
I receive a sou for her for months-year
? meme together; mais qu'est-ce que C
e fait? She is like my own propre chill
n to me now; and is she not beautiful toe
d monsieur?n and poor old Madame Du
/. pont would gaze at Cherie with the tear
t, of rapture in her light gray eyes.
: must have been very much in Low
ii to spend, as I did, hour after hour c
e fine, warm spring days, shut up in Mad
e anne Dupont's stufy little parlor, lister
# ing to her rhapsodies over her adore
10 Cherie, who certainly was very lovely
s. "divinely tall, and most divinely fair.
W 81 don't see, my deer fellow, where
is to end," he said one day. "You can
marry that old froggy's neice." i ha
5 told him Cherie was Madame Dupont
ID niece. I had just sufficient discretion I
ig keep her early history secret frol
in Edgar.)
De "And why can't 1 marry her, pray
er eventually? OF course, know we sha
10 have to watt" lat twenty, one thinl
In that a mere trihe.)
Is "Ah, but the whole thing is so absur
10 Walter. What would your govern
&c say to it-your governor who is SO tr
ID mendous proud and stiff-necked, alwa.
" talking about new people,? He'd thlr
10 old Mother Dupont rum lot for ne
person, I should say"
.ss "You mistake my fathers charact
an altogether, Thornton" replied loftil
bo 'He hates pretension, and assumptio
a. and vulgarity of any kind; he can't stal
a would-be great people; but he admir-
o. beauty and respects worth, wherever
he meets it; and Cherries face and manne