Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1877-08-25

mo mother, not very often"
Il think You are working too hard, y
continued the poor woman, signing. 81
get well very slowly, Fanny; and the
beef tea and port wine cost great deal.
I've made up my mind, child, to write to
my brother at last"
'.But, mother, you'll be dreadfully dis
tressed If he doesn't answer. And you
often said he would never forgive you
for marrying poor father"
"I've been q widow for nearly five
years, Fanny. Surely Stephen can bury
the old grievances in my husbands
gravel"
"You know best, mother. But father
always spoke of him rs hard man."
well, at any rate shall make an at
tempt to soften him. Don't try to talk
me out oil it, Fanny. / believe it is the
right thing to do -
Fanny held her peace, but she had lit
tie hope that Uncle Fenwick would re-
ply TO his sisters letter. She knew that
he was q rich merchant, several years
older than her mother, but she had new
er seen him, and had founded her opin-
ion OF his character solely on her fathers
dislike to him. The late Mr.. Kennaway
had been one of those men who had a
natural turn for borrowing money, and
are generally severe on thUse who refuse
to lend. Perhaps Mrs. Kennawa had TAX
en- some pains to hide the fathers faults
from the child's eyes, for fanny had never
discovered them.
"Now, Fanny, said honest Mrs. Marks,
bouncing into the room, 'tO-mOrrow's
Saturday. and you are going to have a
| whole holiday. Everything's planned, so
you may leave off shaking your head.
Mary Baker has promised to come and
sit with your mother. My man and
have arranged to take you right off to
Durrant farm, where my sister lives"
Mrs. Marks and her husband were the
Kennaways' next door neighbors. They
were childless couple, and instead of
wasting their affections on dogs and par
rOts, they looked out for young people
who needed love and sympathy. Fanny
had no idea they knew all about her sOr-
row. She did not realize how easy it is
for shrewd eyes to read the signs ola sick
heart.
Early the next morning, hired chaise
ratified out OF George street, containing
Fanny and her two friends. OF course
it could not be quite a perfect holiday
without William but the girl enjoyed
fresh air and rest, and was grateful for
kindness. 1t was long drive, and when
they reached the farm house, Mrs. Marks
declared that Fanny had picked up won
| derfully. A day or two In the country,
she laid, would put little color into
those pale cheeks, and brighten the eyes
that were dull with watching and work
ing. All poor Fanny!
I Durrant farm stands upon the outskirts
| Of wood, which has always been IA
vorite haunt for picnic parties. The fates
had decreed that the Derry's should give
q picnic that day; it was early i'm Septem-
Der, and the tOwhsfolk wanted to make
the most of the waning summer. Miss
Julia Derry wore anentirely her costume,
for the occasion, and charming rustic
hat adorned with peoples and wheat ears.
1t was very agreeable to be admired, even
by "a mere merchants clerk, and she law
ished her sweetest smiles Oh William
Pari.
Arm In arm the pair strOlled away
from the rest of the party. He talked
nonsense. and she laughed and listened
and led him OIL, without thought be-
You'd the hours amusement. She was
wiser in the worlds ways than foolish
| William, whose vanity had been tickled
until he really believed he had made q
conquest. lie was bending down 10 his
companion, with flushed cheeks and
sparkling eyes, when turn i'm the path
suddenly brought them face to face with
| Mrs. Marks ami Fannie Kennaway.
Even thea things might have turned
out well, ii William had only been true
| to himself But there was Fanny ip' her
shabby, everyday gown. and the bolinct
that had gone completely out of fashion
and there was the superb j ulia hanging
OIL PARIS arm, and quizZing his betrOthed
with naughty eyes. The worst part oI
the young man nature came uppermosl
at that moment. He gave one quick
i glance ut Fanny, and then swept on
without bestUwing even bow of recOg
milton on the little dressmaker.
WELL" said Mrs. Marks, drawing q
long breath; II only wonder that the
earth don't open and swallow him up y
CHAPTER III.
Fanny took her lovers desertiOn in a
! very quiet way. She knew that the enc
had come, and did not try to get any
comfort out OF dead hope. When the
fire has gone out. she is a wise woman
who sets herself TO rake away the ashes
and clean out the crate, even when She
knows her heartlatone will be cold fol
many year afterward. Our little dress
maker went on sewing and shipping. al
usual, saying never word about bel
trouble.
Meanwhile the household burdens wer,
lightened. Mr.. Fenwick wrote a kin(
reply to his sisters letter. and enclosed +;
sum large enough to supply her with al
that she required.
\ "You can get yourself new gown
now, Fanny" said her mother, cheerful
~. s.It has male my heart ache to sc,
you wearing that old gray thing. lik
my girl to be well dressed
Brave Fanny! liza sick heart whisper
ed that It didn't matter what she wOr
, NOWADAYS, she never needed the voice
She chose the material with as much car
as il it had been the stuff for her weddin,
dress, and set about making it up in he
| best style. When it was finished Mrs
Marks came in, and resolutely clearet
|, away the signs of work., and then sen
Fanny up stairs to put on the new gOwl
,, and 60 out walking In 1t.
; 1t was getting late in the afternoon
, when Fanny returned trem her stroll
1t seemed to her as she entered the littl
parlor, that it was full Of people; he
, mother sat by the window, looking her
; yous and fearful, yet happy withal and
|, by her side was an elderly gentleman
talking earnestly. 5sst
A little apart from these two was
young man, sitting at the table, ant
turning over the pages of little vOlum
lot poems, which had been q gift iron
William Parr to his affianced wife,. Boil
gentlemen rose quickly as Fanny cam
/ i'm, aud the elder introduced himself a
81 am your uncle, Stephen Fenwick
Fanny be said: Give me kiss. m.
-, uy,;s IL nv con. yOnr corsin Wal