Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1877-10-18


aunt's care. But she was far too DO
lite to murmur loudly, and when her
relative died, it was with the firm con-
viction that all Maude's tender care and
devotion were dictated by warmest af-
fiction. It was singularly characters
tic of Miss Person that in her will she
stipulated that Maude should return to
London six months after her death and
Wear no mourning. In one of their last
interviews she said TO her, . You will
soon be twenty-five, Maude, and you
shall not bury yourself here next win
ter. 1t might ruin your prospects of a
good match"
And Maude, secretly exultant, wept
copiously as she assured her dear aunt
that : Society would have no charms for
her were she to be deprived of her life
long companion"
Yet, the six months dragged YEARLY
when she thought of Lord Frederick
Seymour. Would he love her better
for her golden charms, or did he know
her fortune, after ALL was small COM
pared with his own princely income
Had some fair face eclipsed her mem
Ory?
Carefully during the long summer did
the beautiful brunette cherish her own
charms, and gloriously did they repay
her care when she burst upon her old
friends, more superbly handsome than
ever, at Lady Ralston's reception.
Esther Worthington, looked at her as
she entered the room, turned to her
companion, saying in low tone, g Is not
that Miss Pierson?''
Yes. Is she rot handsome"
Magnifcently SOL / can scarcely
imagine more queenly beauty. She
was not a very pretty child, dark and
thin. Will she recognize me, | wonder,
as easily as do her?".
You were children when you last
metz"
about twelve years old; but we
lived near each other for six years
before that. Will she look upon me
now as scornfully as she did then?"
Hush you pain me-" was the
reply Try and forget the dark
days"
NAY, for they make the happy ones
all the brighter" was the gentle reply.
Bow to your partner"
For the music of the auadrille sound
ed in the long room, and attention
was required to the intricacies through
which Miss WOrthingtOn and her part
ner proposed to lead their set.
When it was over, Esther, leaning
on her partners arm, turned to find
herself confronting Maude Pierson.
With sweet smile she extended her
hand
"Have you forgotten me?' she
asked.
Il remember you WELL" was the re-
ply, in a freezing tone, land | confess
my surprise is very great to meet a char
ity girl amongst my friends"
A charity girlr cried several voices
You may doubt me-" she contin-
ued, answering them, " but let Miss
Worthington deny, if she can, that she
was taken from a charity school to be
the nursery maid of Mrs. Thurston,
my aunt's cousin and neighbOr. Let
her deny, if she can, that she did a
meniaPs work for years. She may
palm herself off as Mrs. Mortimer
niece upon strangers, but |, knowing
her, decline the honor of her acQuaint-
ance."
The delicate, beautiful Esther Worth
ingtOn grew very pale during this in
sulting address, but she drew herself
erect as haughtily as Maude Pierson
herself, as that young lady ceased to
speak
"AlI you have said is quite true" she
replied, "and my only reason for con-
cealing the facts you nov force upon
my friends was the request Of my dear
aunt, Mrs Mortimer Mrs Hursey,
Lady Ralston, and several others who
honor me with their friendship, know
we'll the family history you force me to
relate to my friends here. You will
pardon me for obtruding my private
affairs upon you but since Miss Pier
son has attacked my veracity, must
defend it. My parents were married
against the wishes of my mothers faith
er, who carried his resentment to the
grave, and cut mother out of his will.
When | was babe, my father died
and my mother, i'll, feeble, she, too,
died. Her sister, Mrs. Mortimer, was
in Canada at the time, and unaware OF
my existence.
What Miss Pierson has so delicately
told you of my childhood is quite true.
/ was taken from the workhouse to fill
a servants place, but my employers
were kind, and | was allowed to attend
school in the winter. | think they will
! testify that, if my duties were menial
/ they were well performed. When ]
was thirteen my aunt returned home
and found me out. Since then have
been her charge, and the kindest OF
/ l,
! death, [ became the guest of my friend
Mrs. Hursey. / hope you will pardon
me for taking up so much of your time;
and if you desire, with Miss Pierson, to
decline the further acquaintance of a
workhouse girl, I can only accept your
decision with some regret for deceit
that was only in accordance with the
wishes of the dead.
Stay a moment" said Lord Fred
/ erlck Seymour, as the friends of the
beautiful girl would have pressed more
warmly than ever around her /" let me
speak one word. BY the request Of
Miss Worthington, | have RETAINED from
mentioning the honor she has conferred
upon me, and which is the browning
pride and happiness of my life. When
| asked her to become my wife, to give
me the priceless treasure of her love
she told me the story you have just
heard, and |, too, joined my entreaties
to those of her aunt. Not" he added
haughtily, " that 1 valued my future
wife the less, but [ understood that
even in our society there are some igno
bic enough to countsher early misfor
tunes as a shameful fact, and ignore
the beauty of character that could keer
her noble, pure and true, even in the