The Weston Democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1875-current, 1876-01-10

WulnptEtu W Oub uuULltT tunL OIL MUE-
ison's daughter and the golden haired
little girl were lost Mt SEQ.
Ten years afterwards, Kathleen Mori-
son-a childless widow, a listless exile
now upon foreign shore-was standing
at her door, where the glowing italian
sunshine streamed down through bios.
soming vines. - -..rHe Tar-r p
"Thc saints protect us from such a
grim face rs yours, Kathlina |" cried n
merry neighbor, balancing basket oil
fish on her head, rs sho trippel by.
"Don't You want to hear bit Of newsl''
II am not SO wrapped up in the fine
folk at the castle as you, Ninetta, said
Kathleen.
"1t's lovely lady," returned Ninetta,
:. "and she's dying by inchcs-La signorn
San Legero."
"St. Leger !"
"Ah that's the way the English have
it."
"Go away! I want no moro of your
idle gossip!"
Ninetta retreated, fairly appalled, by
the sharpness Of her neighbor's tongue
and voice; and Kathleen stood gazing
fxedly into tho sunset, with eyes that
saw not q sbade OF the carmine glow.
81 thought once that should never
pity her." unused Kathleen, "but that
was before my babes died. ] have felt
tho serpent's tooth in my own hoart
since. Poor lady! and she is dying Of q
broken heart. l wish I could die! !"
The next evening, as Mrs. st. Leger
was lying on tho sofa by the open win
dow which led out upon marble terraces
and velvet-smooth lawns, o slip Of white
paper came auttering down upon her
lap as softly as the floating petal OF an
orange blossom. And, rudely Ecrawled
upon it with q pencil, she deciphered
these words:
"There is one white American flower
among tho pomegranate blossoms MT
Marco Silvedo's."
Beatrice st. Leger'scheek turned even
paler than its usual shade Of pallor rs
she read the mystic lines.
"Read, Alfred"
"Nelly was drowned ton long years
ago, Beatrice"
"Nclly is alive, Alfred l know it, I
feel It'll Oh, lose no timo-inquire who
and where Marco Silvedo is Z
81 will inquire, he said "but, Bea.
trice, calm yourself. Remember how
often we have been deceived before"
"We shall not bo deceived again,
Alfred"
Marco Silvedo sat at his cottage door,
smoking n short pipe Of some dark,
fragrant wood; an old, wrinkle-faced
Italian, with skin US yellow as parch.
ment, iron.gray hair and keen black
eyes. Two or three children, as dark as
himself, were playing around him ard
when Mrs. st. Loger noted tho ruddy
crimson hue OF health in their cheeks,
she know what was meant by the words
"pomegranate blossoms.
Mr.. st. Leger alighted, and began to
talk to the old man in his own language.
"Aro these oil your children, Signor
Silvedoi"
"Yes, signor-all. Two arc with the
saints in glory-three are here"
Beatrice, listening from the carriage,
felt tho blood grow chill around her
heart. Was the faint light OF hope that
had begun to dawn on hcr life's horizon
but a deceptive mirage, after all.
Mr.. st. Leger was about to ro.enter
tho carriage, when the old Italian rose
politely to his feet.
"TLe signor and signora would honor
him by partaking Of n glass Of his own
wine? Nay, ho would receive no refus-
al. Elena-Nella!"
A tall, slender girl Of fifteen or there
abouts came to tho door-a girl with d
skin as fair US drifted snow, and blue,
serene eyes. She looked wouderingly
at tho strangers.
Mrs. st. Leger uttered a low, smoth-
cred cry. All the changes that Ind
passed over Nelly's head Ind not III
tered her to tho mothers wistful, loving
eyes. She was tho "Little Nelly" of
the weary years ago. r. -..r
"Nelly! Ncllyi" she cried, wildly,
"don't you remember your motherl"
And Nelly st.. Leger, with the food
gates Of memory wide open III hcr heart,
fell, sobbing on her mothers breast.
az knew I had a mother once, before
I sailed across the sea" she faltered, in
Italian ; "but I thought she had forgot
ten me !" ~ sJE 81 e
Marco Silvedo, who had been gazing
in blank astonishmcnt from one to an
other, now CAME forward and told how
tho child had been left at his door ono
chill November night, how md by whom
he did not know, nor could the be-
wilderel child tell him.
II had Just buried my youngest
child," he said, "and it seemed as il
tho good saints meant this ono to take
her place. l shall miss her .soroly,
honghIdon't grudgo her tothe signor."
Kathleen, standing Mt the door ms the
rolled by the next day, with
Nelly sitting between her father and
mother, smiled darkly to herself.
az had meant that my revenge should
have lasted still longer" she said to her
self; but tho poor lady cannot live long
and, after all, she was not to blame.
Besides, when little Kathleen died, l
buried almost all tho bitter smart in her
grave. Let them be happy while they
can"
For Kathleen knew that shc was