Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1877-04-20
TCont,nped from first maze

we were sitting disconsolatelv discussing
all manner OF wild impossible schemes. 1t
was an exquisite night; everything looked
calm and quiet and peaceful; the pulses
of the great city were hushed there was
nothing to break the silence, except poor
Henry's hopeless tones repeating, "a crl-
sis can't be far off, Kate. What we are
to do, know not -
We fancied the amazement OF our
friends-the nine days wonder our mis-
fortunes would cause, little dreaming that
our ending had long been confidently pre-
dicted by them, and that our hospitality
had been roundly censured and con-
demned by the very partakers OF 1t. Stlll
less did we imagine that Mr.. Trevor. so
far from being favorably impressed with
our surroundings, had gone away-iully
aware as he was with the exact amolt oil
Henry's income-shocked and sorry to see
that Henry Arden had married wife with
so little sense and judgment; and no Sec
ond glance from his keen eyes was want
sng to prove TO him how terribly beyond
it we were living. His observations had
satisfied him that serious embarrassment
must ensue. consequently he and his
partners had bestowed the desired post
and increased emoluments upon one who.
if he needed it less than we did, certain
" understood its value better.
So no one except my mother and Uncle
,Iocelyn would be surprised, though we
imagined so differently. as we sat on and
on in our pretty drawing-room talking
over the weary subject and bordering
what we could possibly do. We should
have to sell off everything. to leave Am
berley Villa, and to tegin life over again.
Henry's prospects, of course. would be Sc
riously damaged, and we could never
hope to thoroughly regain the position
our own folly had deprived US of. 1t was
not pleasant to think of; but there could
be no shutting out of the question now :;
il must be met and answered Immediately !;
what were we to do? Nothing very def
mite could be arrived at; but one thing
was quite clear-the change could not be
far off.
| can never describe the anxiety of the
days that followed, nor tell the agony it
cost me 10 write and tell my mother that
we were hopelessly, desperately involved,
and that our difficulties were SO great it
was impossible for us ever to surmount
them. What would she say? What
would everybody say? Worst of all,
what would Uncle Jocelyn say For the
worst had come to the worst-our house
was our own no longer; a man-strange
and TO me most terrible-was comiorta-
bly, making himself at home in our kitchen
in other words. had taken possession !!
How could Henry show his face at the of
fee How could | ever venture out
again
shall never forget the two days that
followed after | wrote and told my moth
err; on the third, when | was almost stupe-
fed with the magnitude of our misfortunes
and during Henry's (poor Henry certainly
had the the hardest part TO bear, for he
could not stay quietly at home) absence,
had shut myself up in my room, some one
knocked at the door, and in answer TO my
very subdued "Come .in," it was gently
opened. and not Sophy, as | had antici-
pated, appeared but the familiar friendly
face of Uncle Jocelyn.
my poor child - he exclaimed-"my
little Kate !'-and he folded me in his
arms with all the tenderness of father
81 only heard of it all this morning." he
said, land | started off Immediately.
Cheer up, Kate, Don't grieve your Old
uncle by tears. Things can't be past
mending; and wouldn't be here if had
not come to help you"
And how he helped us! Without
word of anger or reproach he listened to
Henry's and my story; we told it faithfully
not sparing or attempting 10 justify our
selves for our culpable conduct; and when
all was confessed be simply wrote check
for the full amount OF our liabilities. The
total was a serious one, but we were saved
not only from the disgrace but from Hen
rV'G dismissal from "a hartman. hin which
afterwards was the means of our possess
ing fortune far beyond what we had ever
in our rosiesl imaginings dreamed of.
BY Uncle. Joceyn's advice we sub-let
Amberley Villas and retired to more
roomy house in less expensive and less
fashionable locality; we sold all our SUI
perfuities, which had become actually
hateful to me, and we started once more
with small but certain income.
How much happier we were, and how
grateful to Uncle Jocelyn, it would re-
quite far more eloquent pen than mine
TO describe. He often came 10 see us, and
never had cause to regret the generous
help he had so readily extended to US in
our great need, for he saw how thorough.
ly repeDtant we were. My mother Joined
in the general rejoicing over our reganed
happiness; and out OF gratitude her old
prejudice against Uncle Jocelyn faded and
faded away.
She often goes to Covington now, where
we all meet, merry party, of which the
generous old man is the well-beloved cen
ter. He was giving me some gentle
hints as to the training of my sons the
other day. "For it's mothers influence
that tells upon the man, Kate; us the
lesson she teaches in childhood that he re-
members bestn
Yes, Uncle Jocelyn." answered; II
know you are right. hope among the
many things | desire to teach them, one
especially mayn't be forgotten-you know
what that Isl
ITO fear God" replied Uncle Jocelyn,
reverently.
That first of ALL" answered; "but I
meant something else"
Whatp" queried Uncle Jocelyn.
Never to buy what they can't afford
and always to pay ready money. '-Cham-
6er'S Edtnburg Journal.
@HuMa ANN ;nrs1