West-Jersey pioneer., 1875-09-16

| idence of an eccentric and recluse bachelor
just the man to have one interesting
nephew for an occasional visitor and sole
heir. Florence on horseback, had dashed
by this residence almost daily since her last
adventure, expecting to see her student"
thoughtfully pacing it's silent terrace, or
emerging upon her bride path from it's
stately glades.
How were her preconceptions put to fight
by his downright answer. "My name is
Horace King. am workman in the NJ
factory"
Florence Grey's quickly moved and inge-
neous face expressed, after one sweeping
cloud of regret, that unmistakable bar Of
circumstantial pride, pronouncing how far
Horace King was removed from her, how
impossible was the gulf between a work
man in the carpet factory of N-and a
high-bred girl trained in a circle of fashion
and fortune, and anticipating in the ap-
! York.
AS an immediate afterthought- some
thing in the mingled pride and pain with
which the youth had said these worde reach
ed her-something in his tone touched
the better, freer nature of Florence Gray.
With a quick impulse, swayed by kindly
retrospection and kindly good wishes, she
took from her girlish finger turquois ring.
sIt is set with a forget-me-not." (" she
| said, giving it to him. ssKeep it, please
as token of my thanks. Keep it until we
| meet again.
She glanced away from him as she con-
cluded sentence which, for some reason
or other, thrilled and inspired hinl-she
glanced, at her last words, afar off toward
| the sinking sun. He interpreted her look.
| Their Injecting again. was something be-
| yond the horizon Of tangible events. 5stsji
He kissed her hand and accepted her gift.
By curious legal complication, arising
| from curious but lawful "will," Florence
Grey, upon the death of her mother, which
| occurred early in that very autumn for
| which the opening of her s'brilliant season.
had been planned, was left penniless
orphan. She was flung in moment from
the caressing atmosphere of affluence and
| idolatry into the harsh air of need, and the
calculating friendships of distant relatives.
| She did not realize at first all the sorrows
of this change; but as time passed the cry
| of her heart became more desolate and more
| bitter. She wasted herself in longing for
that never to be recalled bondage of mater
nal love, that irksome fondness which had
SO tenderly hemmed her in from all rough
usage of 'sthis work day world"
| The sweet, rich ripping voice, trained
asthetically for parlor use-Florence Grey S
| singing, a part of herself, which, like her
self, had been tenderly nurtured and fatter-
ed and held sacred to home life--was meta
morphosed into thing of market value.
She had yielded to circumstance, and two
years after her mothers death journeyed
toward Italy, to cultivate there for public
uso her musical gift
| The friends who took her under their
protection for the journey stopped several
weeks in England. ...,a4s IA.
In London, at the Royal Gallery; where
Florence was spending morning with he1
friend Theresa, she was presented casually
to Mr.. B, rich bachelor, of New York,
famous for his afauence, and famous, al
most against his modest will, for his benev.
olent munifcence.
Florence, at Theresa's side, could moi
avoid hearing conversation that interested
her but slightly in comparison with the pic
lures. Her Indifference was dispelled by 9
single word. Her undivided attention be-
came fixed upon the conversation, and the
paintings vanished into the obscurity Of
dead walls.
II am just now deeply Interested" Mr..
B-said, Gin young countryman o
yours and mine, Miss Theresa, who has
fallen, as believe innocently, into the TOLL
of an unprincipled enemy. The young MAI
is employed as designer in the immense
carpet factories of A, and he had me-
with such success that fame and fortune
seemed secured. One design of his, callet
the forget-me-not pattern, met with sucl
remarkable favor that it was purchased b,
French artistes, and found it's way in Aubus
son into the boudoir of the Empress. Fo
this very pattern, which had proved th'
cornerstone of his good fortune, the poo
fellow is now in trouble, and has been ar
raigned on charge of plagiarism, or, t'
speak more accurately, of downright theft
His adversary has produced successive de
signs, from the crude thought to the artis
tic finish, and the affair is going hard will
my poor countryman, Horace King. To
morrow am to have a hearing in his case
to present testimonials which have beer
sent to me from America from variou
friends and from the factories of N
cellent character"
At the word ''forget-me-not'' the atten
ton of Florence was arrested. At tn
name of Horace King her whole soul becam
interested. Associated in memory at Lin
dengrove, with her last summer of sun-li
!, youth and of young life's ineffable swee
promise, had been the Student of he
imagination; and the workman in the fac
/ tory of N" had, as time gave new in
: sight into the worlds ways, became glori
fed. She had seen no one who seemed t.
) her SO manly, SO thoughtful, and 80 trust
worthy as her guide of the woods.
, The New York gill rather astonished he
} august countryman by her impulsive star
{ and her earnest plea.
r "Mr. B, will you not take me wit
! can help you. Iknow something of a forget
) me-not carpet pattern. At least--I mean
know something Of forget-me-not carpe
! mani"
r Her face, lighted by self forgetful enthu