The enquirer southerner., 1874-08-21

consoled her.
But what would be the end p
That disturbed her little now and
then, till she learned to live from
day to day doing the duties lying
before her, and looking no further.
One real sorrow came. Eta,
Geoffrey's baby girl, died, rocked
IN Gaenor's arms, and soothed by
her caresses. This shook poor
Gaenor moie than she knew. She
felt so dreary. that little Ge' frey
seemed to echo her feelings, and
moped and mourned too, SO that
Geanor thought it bert to send him
to school at the nearest town.
The Mill was in full wclk, and
the books showed the business to be
hourishing again so Gaenor had
tine for her sorrow, and began to
lock very pale and worn. She
would have liked word or even
few written lines from Charles Car
donell in those days, but none came.
Something else. however, once
again changed the current of her
life, running just now slowly and
sadly.
One gusty winters night Marion
Mill took fire--how, no one knew
no lives were lost ; but the mill was
burnt to the ground. 1t was in
sured to its full value, people said,
and Gaenor nodded yes to the same
inquiry often repeated.
She was staying at the Rectory,
where the good people had taken
her in, and insisted that she should
remain. But she felt all astray;
for it had been settled by wiser
heads than hers, she knew, that
Marion Mill should not be rebuilt,
but the money invested for the
benefit of little Godfrey who would
hear of nothing but going to sea,
and who was already in training
for the royal navy.
Old Andrew had died a short
time since, and it seemed to Gaenor
as if no one needed her now.
And then, one day, she opened
her eyes after heavy doze on the
sofa, for she was i'll and feeble from
the late shock and anxiety, to see
Charles Cardonell gazing at her.
The color rushed TO her cheeks, for
he was asking her pardon, and cali
ling himself hard names.
"Oh do not said she, half
frightened. eyes, yes, 1 forgive
you if you wish it-indeed I do"
sand may Twill you-is it the
$780, -o o'~i e'' hU "oheu; Indeed
| never accepted your freedom,
dear Gaenor."
''But you are going to be married,
are you not p" asked poor Gaenor.
"Never. unless to you," said
Charles Cardonell.
And then the explanation rumors
and realities quite aroused Gaenor;
but she was not allowed to speak
again till she had received a full
confession of Charles Cardonells
shortcomings from his own faltering
lips.
''I.was an arrogant fool to talk
and think of you as 1 did. Yes,
you are noble, indeed; but it is not
birth makes you so; it is yourself.
How could have wished you to
act differently? The only thing is,
you are too good to be my wife"
"Oh. Charles, no. said poor
Gaenor; ''you will care for me
now; for every one is going away.
The mill-house is gone, and Geof-
frey will soon be at sea-
And her voice choked.
So, to Charles great relief, the
selfreliant little mill-manager broke
down, and became the poor weep
ing girl he alone could cherish and
comfort as his loving wife.
| AS Mrs. Charles Cardonell, of
the Grange, Gaenor once again
began life; and although visited by
Lady This, and the Honorable
Mrs. That, and made much of as
''poor Algernon's child" her hus>
band cared little for this; he had
found out for himself that Gaenor
was noble by nature, and iu that
he gloried. Gaenor's nobility had
ennobled him, too, for we can
hardly live with the good and noble
without gaining benefit to ourselves.