Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1877-06-29
WON AT LAST.

| WIN nj 1Ao1s
A plain woman and pink cotton hand
kerchief are not the most promising mat e
rails for picture. But Mary Cromford
though plain, had a graceful figure, an(
the pink handkerchief which she was hem
ming formed pretty contrast to her white
| dress as she sat on the edge OF little
chasm in Swiss valley. She was healthy
sweet, graceful English girl, and she and
her bit of pink cotton formed no unworthy
centre to the scene of hill and dale.
Fraulein Muller, her former governess,
sat beside her. The stiff, tight dress. the
hair primly laid over the ears, the broad
hat tied with big bow under the chin,
bespoke her nationality.
Mary's position was difficult one.
Adopted when she was child by distant
relative, rich bachelor, she had been rec
ognized as his daughter, and though the
fiue old house where they dwelt, with it's
park and surrounding land, were entailed
on a male heir, it was known that that
heir had offended the old man, and no one
was surprised when, on his sudden death,
the only will dated many years back was
found to leave Mary Cromford the whole
which by every means, he had taken care
to increase at the expense of the estate.
No one was surprised except the heir, Mr..
Manton, handsome, stern, proud man of
forty years, whose grave dignity sat we'll
upon him, and whose very sorrow was dig
nified as he stated his strong sense of in
justice. He was a poor man and he found
himself suddenly master Of a handsome
estate, requiring instant outlay and a
handsome income to keep it from absolute
deterioration. If his uncle had felt no
regard Or consideration for him, at least
he might have respected the land itself.
The lawyers shook their heads. 1t might
not seem equitable. There was no help for
it. No help for it ? Mr.. Manton thought
otherwise. Having made Mary's acquain-
lance in the necessary course of business.
he one day demanded private interview,
and with the utmost candcr told her that
she alone could remedy the evil and save
the estate by-marrying him; that he had
a high esteem for her qualities, that his af-
fections were entirely at her disposal, and
that he would make her a good husband.
Mary doubted none of these propositions
Mr.. Manton's somewhat naive candor had
lis attractions for her. and. like all noble
women, she was infinitely attracted by the
idea of self-sacrifice for the sake of JUS
tice. But this self-sacrifce was trife
too hard, for was there not Tom Derby,
whom she had loved for years, and who
loved her we'll
She thought he loved her, but there was
the pinch, for her uncle, with an old man s
wisdom, had impressed upon her, with the
continued droppings which wear away the
stone, that men seek money, that it was
known she would have money. and that,
therefore, it behooved her to look to It,,
lest those who sought her hand should be
rather seeking her purse. And when Tom
Derby had come too often, or fingered too
long, he had thrown out hints that Derby
was poor. that he expected, that he hoped,
and so on, till the poison had eaten into
her SOUL And yet her nature was so frank,
so antagonistic to suspicion; but she was
blindfolded by that blind guide, the world
ly wisdom of old age. Therefore. when she
stood alone, when Mr.. Manton candidly
asked her to sacrifice herself for him, his
very frankness and GOODNESS tempted her
to yield, for, she said, was it not better to
take cold esteem, honestly offered, than
love which might be won by? No;
she could not frame the word, even to
self. When she ought to have given al
answer, her whole inner being rose up
against the falsehood, and she found her.
self in great strait.
Was there no other way? she piteously
asked Mr.. Manton. Was there not such
thing as a deed of gift? Might she not
return to him so much of her fathers
legacy as should remove the stain of ln-
justice?
No; Mr.. Manton's dignity forbade him
to receive the lesser boon-it must be all
or nothing. Then, while she still hest
tated, she had letter from Tom Derby
He was coming to see her. He begged her
to receive him on such a day, and driven
to decision, she avoided it by running
away. She would see what time and alb
sence would do to help her to settle her
mind.
| Some of these things we're revolving in
her thoughts as she absently played with
her coffee and spoon, when deep sigh
! from Fraplein made her look up. Frau
lein was at the window, gazing out with
very sentimental expression. Mary Joined
her, and the amused smile again f1oated
ever her features as she saw tall, ungain-
ly figure, with short trousers, low shoes,
much blue stocking, large umbrella OF
green and yhite.plaiq, anprmoHs speetacles
and hat on the back of it's head. and yet
! withal kindly, and pleasing, and very
melancholy face, come swinging over the
bridge toward the Relss House. He whls-
tied as he drew near, d musical whistle
like birds call, and his melancholy fea,
lures broke into sunny smile as the old
door opened, and thFee dirty chiilldren
rushed out, clasping his knees and hands
and dancing like Hecate's imps about him
as they led him in triumph home, tie was
a widower-a doctor-who lived opposite
the little Swiss inn at which Mary ana hel
companion we're stopping. The frauielr
had once rescued one of the doctors lltIl'
children, that had fallen from the top OF
wood cart; ever since that time sue hae
taken an unusual interest in the tamll!