The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1877-01-11

el with an invalid lady, and would prob
ably be in Paris before the letter had
been there many days. Every line of
this communication was full of graft.
tude for the opportunities given the lit
tie waif for culture and happiness, and
the sense of pleasure it gave her to be
no longer an idle burden to her bene-
factor.
$50 ends that chapter!" the young
man said, half sadly, as he folded the
closely written sheet. "My wild bird
has left her nest, and must try her wings
alone. Well, tits best SO, as things
threaten!"
And the strong right hand was passed
YEARLY over the large blue eyes, with
deep sigh. 81 AbzA.s4s.t.-
Two years later, in hotel at Nice, a
beautiful girl. dressed in deep mourn
ing, and an elderly woman, who seemed
a sort of confidential servant, were seat
ed upon the wide piazza, watching the
groups who passed and repassed in a
large public square opposite to where
they were placed. (ii'i-'- j
Suddenly the girl, who had been care
lessly scanning the many unfamiliar
faces, grasped her companions arm,
saying: $40 you know who that ?'
pointing, as she spoke, to tall man,
with shade over his eyes, who was
seated upon bench in the square
eyes, ma'amselle, - said the servant,
in French, "that is the blind gentleman
who is here under the care of DIR. Bon
naire. But is it not dreadful? So
handsome-so strong-and hopelessly
blind!"
"Hopelessly blindP"
$50 they sayl He was injured by the
work that he did, fine work that tried
his eyes. l do not know what it was
And he came here to DIR. Bonnaire, hop
ing to be cured. But it is useless! He
can never see again"
The young lady addressed rose as her
servant spoke, and, crossing the piazza,
stepped lightly down the steps and
straight to the bench upon which the
blind man was seated. Without pre-
face, without introduction, she said,
81 think, sir, | recognize you as a gen.
tleman who placed child in a school
in Connecticut some years ago-a school
where was a teacher for short time. p"
The sightless eyes were turned quick
ly towards the speaker.
al was deeply interested in such a
child. Can you give me any tidings of
herP"
"She left the school to travel with
Mrs. Elwyn, an elderly lady in feeble
health. Before she had been six months
with Mrs. Elwyn that lady was con-
WINGED that she had found the child of
very dear sister, who had eloped from
home years before, and whose life and
death had been ever shrouded in mys-
terry. Further inquiry only confirmed
the facts, as the child remembered
them; and when Mrs. Elwyn died here,
in Nice, six months ago, she left her
entire property to Beatrice Moore, her
niece"
"Then Trixy is an heiress?"
b "Yes. 1t was one of the marvellous
dispensations of Providence we dare
call accident that took Mrs. Elwyn to
the school. There Trixy's strong re-
semblance to her lost sister first at
tracted her notice, and she inquired
about her. Finding she was anxious to
obtain employment, she engaged her as
companion for European trip"
al am very glad! Do you know
where she is?"
r A little hand fell lightly upon one ly-
ing on the knee of Martin Bruce, and
his was lifted to touch a soft, round
cheek. A voice, low and tender, said
very softly, I" Have you forgotten me?''
"Trixy!n he exclaimed. 81 have
never forgotten you. But you are no
longer the little child 1 left six years
ago."
"No," was the half mournful answer.
al am a woman now. But you will
not send me from you. You will let
me remain beside you, and be your eyes
and handsP" t.
"Ah, Trixy, no! Your youth and
beauty-for know you are beautiful
must never be taxed by such a heavy
charge. Do you know l can never see
you again. Do you know that in less
than a year / shall have to find home
in charity asylum? You will come
sometimes and read to me there, per-
haps?"
..sNeyerl j viii never come to q
charity asylum to see you. You break
my heart when you talk sol"
swell, little one, then we will hope
for better daysin
Trxy's lip quivered at the attempt to
SPEAK IN the OLD, cheery tones that had
comtorted all her childhood's miseries.
Her eyes were dim with tears as she
spoke again, hoping to carry some
brightness to the darkened life. q =
Poor, blind Martin Bruce, who had
lifted her from the darkest misery and
suffering TO place her where she could
improve-who had put her where her
aunt had discovered and sdopted her
her benefactor and only friend-a help.
less, blind pauper.
Was it wonderful that the woman's
heart thrilled with pain and love, and
that the gratitude of years suddenly
confronted her in new form-the love