The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1877-08-08

wife
Both gentlemen rose quickly as Fan
ny came in, and the elder introduced
himself at once.
I" am your uncle, Stephen Fenwick,
Fanny" he said taking her hands "Give
me kiss, my dear You are like the
daughter | have lost This is my son,
your cousin Walter
The young man came forward, aud
asked if Fanny was willing to make
friends with an unknown relative. His
manner was natural, his voice very gen
tie and she felt at once that he treated
her with as much Difference as if she had
been a peeress instead of poor little
dressmaker. What he thought of her
she did not learn till long afterwards;
but certain it is that the image of a
sweet, pale girl, IN brown dress, haun-
ted Walter Fenwick's mind for many a
day.
Your uncle wants us to go and live
with him, Fanny" said Mrs. kennaway
TREMENDOUSLY. He is widower, and has
only a housekeeper to take care of him.
Shall we go?"
"Will you come and be my child,
| Fanny" asked Mr.. Fenwick. She turned
and looked steadfastly at him for a mo
ment with her eyes full of tears. And
then slowly and gratefully, she answered,
/ yes.
| Only fortnight after Mr.. Fenwick's
visit, the inhabitants of George street
ran to their doors to catch last glimpe of
| the Kennaways. The two women came
very quietly out of the little house. and
entered the fly that waited for them and
their luggage. Mrs Marks waved a tear
+ful farewell her husband stood on the
pavement, smiling broadly to hide his
real feelings, and then the folks went in
doors again, saying that they supposed
| the rich uncle was going to make a lady
of little Fanny.
And how was it, meanwhile, with Will
liam Parr! His intimacy with those gay
friends, the Derrys, had come TO an end
with the summer, Julia got tired of his
attentions and snubbed him her elders
said to each other that young PARIS fire.
quent visits were becoming quite a NUS
ance even Tom at last gave him the cold
shoulder. They were heartless set, he
said to himself, feeling abominably i'll
used. And then it suddenly occurred to
him that he was only getting the very
same measure that he had melted to an
other
g 1t serves me right for treating Fanny
badly" he fmused "She was worth
hundred Julias. And she is such a good,
forgivng little thing, that | almost think
she'd make it up with me if | went back
to her again"
1t was chilly evening in late autumn
When William Parr once more took his
way to George street A host of old re
collections came crowding around him as
he drew near Fanny's home he began
to wonder how he could have stayed away
from her so long, and to be eager for the
first glimpse of her sweet face. He knew
lust how she would look his fancy pic
tured the glow and brightness that would
welcome him. There wns a light in her
parlor-a warm, CHEEKY DEAN, that told
him he should find her sitting as usual
at her sewing.
81 won't make dozen wretched ex-
cuses, i" thought the young man. 81 will
Just ask her to forgive me, and tell her
that | could not live without her."
He knocked at the door, and stood
waiting with throbbing heart for Fanny
to open it. A few seconds passed away,
and then he heard the inside latch lifted, |
featured woman, in widows cap.
lis Miss Kennaway within ?" he fall
tered.
''She doesn't live here !" responded the
woman shortly.
mot live here !" said William. "Then
where is she? Can you give me any in
formation?
81 don't know anything about her. |
I've heard that some people named Ken
naway lived here before [ came, but |
that's all can tell you"
William turned away from the door,
like one half stunned. 1t was all so diff. |
ferent from the pleasant and pathetic lit
tie scene he had been picturing, that he
could hardly believe in this stern reality. |
And then as he still stood dreaming on
the pavement he bethought him of Mrs
Marks. She had been the Kennaways' |
familiar friend, and would surely know
something about their change Of resi-
dence.
Alas Mrs. Marks house was quiet
and dark. The shutters were closed but
no CLEAN of light could be seen within
and Williams knock remained unanswer-
ed.
"That house is empty" said a girls
voice at his elbow, and looking round he
saw decently clad assie with parcel
under her arm. 'eThe Marks are gone
away to live somewhere in the country"
she added
"Can you tell me what has become of
Mrs. Kennaway and her daughter?"
William asked eagerly.
They're gone to London. Some rich
gentleman found out that they were his
near relations, and he has taken them to
live with him."
Without another word William walked
away, hardly knowing what direction he
was taking. Until that moment he had
never realized how strong was the tie
that had bound him to little Fanny. He
had neglected herAtrihed with himself
and his better feelings-and well nigh
broken her heart but had he ever really
ceased to love her? She was gone; she
had quietly vanished out of his way, and
made no sign.
Three years passed away. William
Parr had stepped into the place left va
cant by the death of a senior clerk, his
salary had been raised, and he had NOV
ed into better lodgings. Perhaps if he
had sought to renew his intimacy with
the Derrys, he might not have been re-
pulsed, but he was now a sadder and
wiser man. The sense of loss had never
entirely left him; nor had he as vet
found any one who could be what Fanny
had been. No tidings of her had ever
come to her old lover; in the DAYS of
their intercourse she had been silent
about her uncle Fenwick, and William
baI net ovan bac RI HE