The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1874-10-01
spectacles dimmed with tears.

SpecCaCIeS dlmnle0 Win tears.
In short, Marian Chauncey became the light
of the old arm-house-the bright guardian
angel of its low ceiled rooms and wide, airy
halls. She read the paper to farmer Remlng'
ton; she compounded cake, jelly and Syllabus
to the astonishment and delight OF the old
ladv; she kept the two china vases on the
mantle brimming over with real rain of ro-
ses; she knew by instinct when to darken the
room for the old mans nap on the wide, chlntz-
covered sofa, and she was better than ten doc
tors when Mrs. Remington had one of her
nervous headaches.
"I really don't see how we ever contrlVed to
live without Marian" said the old gentleman.
"But she'll never leave U.S." said Mrs. Rem
ington, decidedly.
F'Marian-little bright eyes-Ive got news -
called the old gentleman, one morning through
the hall; "leave those honeysuckles for some
one else to tie up, and come here. Charlie is
coming home"
'To stay, sir?"
"No, not to stay--his city wife demands his
permanent devotion" Mr. Remington could
not help speaking with sneer-"but he will
spend day here on his way to New York. [
should like to see Charlie-and should like
Charlie to see you. Do not blush-if you are
not better looking than his Fifth avenue wife,
she must be paragon among women, that's
all I've got to say"
"When will he be here, sir?'
"In an hour, should judge from the letter.
Charlie always did write an awful scraw ms
and MS t's; bat 1 suppose that's the fashion
now-a-days!"
Marian Chauncey crept away to her room to
brush out the golden curls, and adjust blue
ribbon at the throat and wonder slyly to her
,loA =; ,hop ho 10
new element that had contrived so to inter-
"But l don't think he'll be angry" said Ma
rian, in half whisper, as she pinned a white
rose to her breast and prepared to descend, in
obedience to Mrs. Remingtons call Of
Marian, Marian, come down and see my
boy"
Charles Remington stood in the centre of
the room with his arm around his radiant little
mother, while the old gentleman from his big,
easy chair delightedly watched over the tab
lean, as Marian slowly advanced.
"Charles," said Mrs. Remington, beaming
all vver, "this is our daughter, who"
But Charles had sprung forward and caught
the slight, willing figure in his arms, while the
golden hair foated in perfect cascade OF curls
over his shoulder.
Evelyn! My wife"
Mr.. Remington stared at his wife. Mrs.
Remington stared at her husband.
"He's mad" whispered the old man.
"Chares, you're mistaken" he added "this is
Marian Chauncey, our adopted daughter.
"No, sir, it is not" faltered the young lady
in question. II am Evelyn, your sons wife.
I have stolen your heart on false pretences,
but did long so for your love. And when
you sent for Marian, I persuaded her to remain
at home and allow me to personate her, just
for few weeks. Father, mother, you will not
turn me out OF your affections now!'
"And you knew nothing of this ?" demanded
old Mr.. Remington of his son.
"Not word it's Evelyn's own idea"
And Evelyn, half laughing, half crying, stole
into her mother-in-laws extended arms.
sIt don't seem possible that this is the Fifth
Avenue GIRL" said the old gentleman. "Come
here and give me kiss, Ma-Evelyn, mean;
$50 she is our real daughter, after all, )" said
proud Mrs Remington.
Evelyn had conquered their prejudices by
the enchanting wand of love.