Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1877-08-23

sauntered across the floor, and opened
the door leading to small extensions
room.
'Come in here one said sit is
really the only place in the hoase in
| order.
But through the open door Nathan
saw a face smiling upon him, only a
portrait, but portrait of Steenie.
The blue eyes, the golden hair, the
exquisite oval and delicate features,
were all Steenie's. There was no
drapery, no ornament, only the lovely
face and shoulders rising from bank
of fleecy clouds. The two ladies had
entered the room, leaving the door
open, needing Nathan no more than
the chairs and tables.
You must be rejoiced to be ct
home,' said one, whose dress was of
costly silk, making strong contrast
with the deep widows mourning of
her companion
| 'Rejoiced! Lillian, nothing can
make me rejoice
But you should not grieve so for
your less. Mr.. Arnold was very old,
and you were a good, faithful wife.
1 do not grieve for him, Lillian. He
has long been only care to me !;
dearly loved, tenderly nursed, but
incapable of giving me either sympa-
thy or protection. | am glad he
rests. 1t is for my child | mourn,
my only child, my little Steenie.'
'Steenie What singular name ?
A singular name, indeed. Nathan
| shook as if with an ague fit as he
leaned heavily against his table, in
capable of work, utterly unconscious
of eavesdropping, his whole being
seeming to wait for the next words.
'Her name was Stephanie.'
when did che die p
'Ah, If / could be sure shc was
dead =
But
she was lost or stolen thirteen
years ago. We were ordered to Eu-
rope for Mr.. Arnold's health and he
was 80 very i'll, so dependent on me,
that | was obliged to trust Steenie TO
nurse. The drive to the steamer
was so exhausting to my husband
that for hours | could not leave him
for one moment. We were already
far out from the city when we dis
| covered that Steenie and her nurse
| were not on board. Lillian, can
never describe that voyage Our
own physician, who was with US, as
sured me that it would be certain, in
slant death to Mr.. Arnold to tell him
the truth, and he would not allow
me to leave him for one moment. At
Sandy Hook our doctor left us, prom.
Using to do all to find the child. We
continued on our way. My poor
husband lived for years, gradually
losing his reason, but never willing
to allow me out of his sight. In all
these years my lawyer, doctor, and
friends spared no effort to find my
child, but in vain was every search.
There was moment of deep 81
lence. Mrs. Arnold's voice had fallen
into a tone of hopeless dependency
and her friend was silent from very
weight of sympathy.
In the wide drawing-room, man
CHASTITY pale, with great beads of ag-
ony upon his brow, fought his heart
with his conscience, every nerve
thrilling, every pulse fainting, with
the violence of the struggle.
Give her up Stoenie, his Steeniel
To what? Luxury, high position,
gentle birth. Never could he claim
her, if once he spoke. He knew too
we'll the bar that would be placed
between them, to have one ray of
false hope. But could he who loved
her so. deprive his darling of her
birthright? Dared he face the future
of remorse he must endure, if he kept
Steenie in his poor home, when her
place was-and bis woful, haggard
eyes looked around him-here
Brief, deadly was the conflict, and
then Nathan stepped to the open
doorway.
Pardon me- he said, and there
was gentle dignity, born of sorrow,
In his tone and air Il overheard
what you said. Mrs. Arnold, | can
tell you where to find your child 7
1t was spoken; but it was hard to
keep the groan in his heart from
breaking forth at his lips.
Mrs. Arnold's face was as white as
his own, but her tone was naughty.
sMy good man. she said, why do
you suppose you can find child lost
thirteen years ago ?
Simply, Nathan told his story,
touching but lightly upon what be
had done, but dwelling with pathetic
force upon the treasure Steenie had
been to himself and his mother.
BE careful = said Mrs. Arnold's
friend 'this may be trick to palm
off some low-born girl upon you
Eff you will send for Steenie,' Ma
than said, very quietly, you can
question her yourself. l will not see
her first. 1t may be- and his voice
was touched by the ray of hope,
shat [ am mistaken
you speak as if that would please
you 7
1t would give me the deepest hap
piness of my life.
and yet you would give her up 2
sTo her mother, | would
There was some further talk, and
then Mrs. Arnold said -
81 will send for the girl. But, un-
derstand me, if she is indeed my
child you must cease to see her. She
is young yet, and / may be able to
eradicate the effect of these ears
lost in her education and training;
but you must sec
Il understand said Nathan grave
ly, as the naughty tone faltered and
hesitated; you need not fear intrus-
| ion upon-Miss Arnold
The name came from parch-
ed lips. Never would Miss Arnold
be bis little Steenie, his wife. He
wrote her q brief note, at Mrs. Aa-
nold's request, and waited as pa
tient as he could till the carriage