Daily Kennebec journal., 1876-04-01
NO. 79.
CHANCE FRIENDS.
lcoNTrNUED FROM YEsTERDAY.1

lCoNTTNUED FROM YEsTERDAY.l
The mornings waking was thing to
be remembered, the little bedfellows' de-
light in each other was so charming. From
the moment when Katie, awaKing early,
saw and felt a little brown-haired stranger
sharing her pillow, and the other sympa-
thetically opening her eyes met the aston
lshed gaze OF the rosy English child, and
each began talking in tongue unknown
to the other, till at length they inter-
changed kisses quite naturally and patted
each others cheeks-from that first mo-
ment they were fast friends, and Bobbie
took to Aimee as naturally as if she had
been his twin sister,
Laterin that day, when the strangeness
OF seeing her with them had somewhat
worn Oft, Mr.. Maye said to his wife:
"Do you remember wishing not long
ago that you could repay poor Blanchard
for what he did for usp You have the
chance now. have you not?'
They had the chance and well they used
it. Aimee was soon as dear to Mrs. Nave
as one not her very own could ever be.
Her natural prettiness was very attractive,
but her delight in young companions, such
as she had never had before, made her
doubly charming, while Katie's motherly
air OF protection and attempts to teach her
new friend to speak English were delight
fully droll. Before Aimee had been with
them week there was not one in the
house who would not have sorely lament
ed the loss Of the bright little thing; and
long before the winter set in she was as
much one of the household as if she had
been born under the roof. Some of
Aimee's doings seemed strangely touch
ing to her English friends; her young
heart was so faithful to her father even
among the kind faces that surrounded her.
She would carefully put away picture or
a book or anything that especially pleased
her, concealing it, as she fondly imagined,
in some place unknown to any one but
herself
Jane called her mistress one day to look
at queer collection of things she had just
found under chest of drawers in the nur.
sery. Wrapped in an old newspaper were
three halves of oranges, ditto figs, half
mnce pie, some shrimps 0rightfully stale,
of course). some bright Christmas cards,
and half Il herring; all things which little
Aimee had highly approved of in their
different ways, and which she had con-
trived to hide unnoticed.
From the nature of this treasure Mrs.
Maye could not possibly allow it to remain
where found, and yet she felt sorry when
she saw the child's look of dismay at the
discovery, and heard her exclamation,
For my good forjer dey was.' followed
by fit of grievous, unreasoning. childish
sorrow.
After soothing her Mrs Maye did as she
would have done with her own children
put her to bed for an hours rest, and left
her to sleep off her trouble. In an hours
time, however, when she returned to the
room, she found the bed empty, and look
ing around in some alarm saw Aimee
kneeling on the floor in corner, while be-
fore her she had placed pillow covered
with an old green shawl upon this lay
two brushes crossed over each other, and
some flowers she had used to dress her
doll with twisted into little Struggling
wreath.
For moment Mrs. Maye was at loss
to understand all this, till Aimee, catch
ing sight of her, burst out crying afresh,
and sobbed forth, at is there is ma chere
and putting her head on the
pillow, which she had arranged as nearly
AS she could like her mothers grave, wept
aud refused to be comtorted.
That was nearly at Christmas time, and
save one short letter in the middle of Sep
tember. nothing had been heard from her
father. Up to that time her life among
them had been like happy visit to the
child, and she of course had known moth
ing of the fears and anxiety to which she
would have been a prey had she been few
years older. To Mrs Maye Caught by ex-
perience that her first plan was not good
one) she took all the chief treasures which
fell in her way, to be saved by her till the
happy moment when her father should
come to receive them. Every day some
plan was made and discussed for speedily
meeting him; every night her tender inn
perfect prayers were offered for him:
each morning found her asking, "Will not
he come this day ?" SO far as taking good
care of her went, Mrs. Maye's heart was
in her work; and so far as one woman
can be mother to another ones children,
she was as mother to Aimee. But at
last, even with such good friends around
her, the little one grew wistful in her
questioning, and often seemed to Mrs.
Maye to ask her with her eyes that which
she grew weary of asking with her lips.
She was gentle, patient little thing, and
seldom grew tretful with the other chill
dren, even as she grew more still and less
inclined to share their merry games.
"Mother, where is Aimee's father?
He's very cruel not to come and see her,
said Kate one day; and kate's mother,
with hopeiulness she scarcely felt. said
perhaps he would come very soon.
And so the time wore on, till towards
the end of January came those anxious
days when people were waiting. dreading,
and hoping for news from Paris. Mrs.
Maye watched and read every paper that
came into her hands; looked down that
strange column of touching messages
which appeared daily. hoping perchance
for some tidings OF or from their friend;
but no word from him ever appeared.
Then came the 2Sth and the news of the
which every one thorough
out the length and breadth of the land re-
,eived with a longdrawn breath of satis-
faction. Then another week and another
Of expectation, of waiting for letters, of
like heartache at the constant