The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1876-05-11
/" /, myself" - % uLI T7
90 Dr,4 Me. Nfoho1 -

ulutos oAAtAlA AlC lAuolAho
and one or two light wrappers"
"Miss Mabel" exclaimed the sur
prised lady's-nlaid, holding up both
hands in hopeless bewilderment,
where can You be goingP''
"To seek my fate, Mildred" said
Mabel, in a tone that was a curious in
termingling of Jest and earnest.
There-now leave me to myself"
Mrs. Beckford, of Beckfordville Villa,
at Richmond, was sitting alone in her
comfortable parlor-musing on her far
off son, with a total abstraction from
all outward sights and sounds--and
when all of asudden shelooked up, a
pretty young person clad in a quiet
style stood before her.
What is itP'' said Mrs. Beckford,
somewhat curtly.
"If you please, madam, am anxious
to come as a companion"
"Who sent you?" demanded the lady,
surveying the large blue eyes and gold
en- bands of smoOthly-brushed hair
rather distrustfully.
al learned from lady of your ac-
quaintance that you wished a compan-
ion, and l should like to take the situa-
tion.''
"Hum-m-m," said the old lady.
+" What's your nameP"
{" Edith Moore"
"Moore-Moore? Got any relations
in tOwn-at Bayswater, | meanP' de-
manded the inquisitress, sharply
" No, ma'am. l am alone in the
world" ...
81 am glad of that" murmured Mrs.
Beckford soto roce. 81 couldn't stand
any one belonging to the guitar-playing
girl who-but never mind that just now.
What are your references?"
Edith Moore drew a letter or two from
her travelling bag.
$50 Mrs. Carter, of Clapham, knows
you, eh?"
"Yes, ma'am.n
"Wen," commented the matrOn,
glancing over the notes, 'Esthese recon-
mendations seem very satisfactory
don't know-but that you may come and
stay. The only objection / can see is
that you are too pretty, and | don't
think you are really to blame for that.
Take off your things"
And the roses that glowed into Edith's
cheeks-at this very plain expression of
the old lady's sentiments did not make
her any the less lovely as she united the
blue bonnet strings, and laid aside the
neat but simple shawl, to enter upon
her probation.
More than a year had crept over the
I 1f 1,fa Of Dn1l-fa,.1,-illn
The trees were bare and leafess, the
snow lay white and deep in all the hol
lows and dimples by the roadside, and
a sharp December wind was sweeping
along the Thames as the sun glOwed
with momentary redness, ere it sank
down out of sight.
"How soon it grows dark" said
Mrs. Beckford, with a little sigh.
"That's right, Edith-draw the cur
tains; now we're comfortable!"
Comfortable, indeed, they were, with
the shaded lamp glowing softly on the
table, and the bright fire on the hearth,
while Mrs BeckfOrd's spectacle-glasses
shone like twin orbs of flame, and her
knitting-needles glittered respOnsiyely.
Edith was sitting opposite to her,
fashioning narrow white ribbon into
bows for the old lady's new winter caps.
She looked wonderfully pretty in dress
of sober blue merino, with blue ribbon
tangled somewhere in the braids of her
burnished hair, while the delicate color
on her cheek was ike the inside of a
pink shell.
"What's that you were saying while
ago about going back to London, my
dear?" said the old lady, suddenly turn
ing round to Edith. 81 just want you
to understand that you can't 60. Ican't
spare you" .,-. ....
She put one arm round Edith's neck,
and drew the round cheek down on her
lap.
"Do you really love me, Mrs. Beck
ford?" asked the girl, earnestly.
Glove you, darling? Icould nomore
get on without You than could without
the sunshine. 1t seems as though you
belong to me. / don't know what
you've done to steal my old heart away,
I'm sure,n went on Mrs. BeckfOrd,
musingly; "but you remind me some
how of the little daughter | once lost.
You won't leave me, Edith, dear?"
There was something almost pathetic
in her pleading voice, as she touched
her withered lips to the pure forehead
of the beautiful girl.
you'll stay and be daughter to me
in my old age, Edith? What should
DO without the little feet that trip so
lightly about the house, and the hands
that are forever busy in my behalf? Tell
me YOU will stay, Edith!n
dearest Mrs. Beckford, whispered
Edith, with the happy crimson dyeing
her cheek, "I'll never leave you; will
stay with you always. Oh, l am so
glad you have learned to love me-more
glad than can tell you. But, Mrs.
Beckford-"
"Well, dear?"
sThere's something | want to tell
vou-something have kept back from
you," faltered Edith, with her fingers
nervously twining themselves around
the old lady's slender, wrinkled hand.
''Mrs. Beckferd, | am"
But Mrs. Beckford had started to her
feet, with a low, half-suppressed cry.
"Hushl did not hear his footsteps
1t was something more than the wind
among the evergreens-it was my boys
foot upon the threshold. He has come
back TO me ~ - o. -
She rushed TO the door and threw ii
wide open. -.
Ernest! My boyi" "rl.
And the tall, stalwart figure caught
her in its arms, as if she had been lit
tie child
sMother, are you glad to see your
wanderer back once morepn Ky
Nor is it any aspersion on his manly
dignity to state that slight moisture
was sparkling on his long eyelashes as
he bent to kiss his mothers cheek
Men are but mortal, even though they
be six feet high, and framed accordingly,
As she drew him in he caught mo-
mentary glimpse of figure in the apart
ment beyond.
"You are not alone, mOther?"
"No; Edith is with me-"
"And who may Edith be-"
"Didn't you get my letters? wrote
all about her."
al haven't seen a letter for three
months"
Edith was standing where the full
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