The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1878-03-02

A slight summer shower was falling in
the afternoon of very lovely day. The
sun did not even vail itself in clouds, but
the golden-tinted drops came down bright
", as if turned from golden ever. A
very young girl was running up the clean,
trim gravel walk of country garlen, her
pale blue dress deepened to a darker tint
by the raindrops. A carriage was passing
at the time, and a youthful face looked
forth from the window, just as the young
girl turned at the sound of the wheels
The occupant of the carriage thought
that this was the very loveliest face he
had ever seen. 1t was neither pale nor
delicate, but had sunny flush and brown
hue, that told of out-of-door habits One
little tanned hand held pitcher of water
doubtless dipped from the pretty stream
that ran close to the garden wall. The
carriage stopped.
"Young lady, one draught from your
pitcher if you please" said manly voice,
rather loud, but pleasant in Its tones
The girl stepped down to the gate, regard
less of the FLASHING drops that wet her
brown hair and glittered on her brown
cheek, and held up the transparent glass
pitcher The water was cold as ice and it
took the young man a long time to drink
it, he, all the while, gazing into the starry
eyes before him.
Mamma says it is not good manners to
look at anybody when you are drinking" !"
said childish voice, close to the carriage
The lesson came from a little girl, not more
than five years old, evidently the sister of
the pretty water-bearer. The gentleman
blushed scarlet, and the young girl said,
softly:
"Hush, Alice you are transgreSsing
good manners yourself, when you speak so
to stranger.
just then the rain poured down in tor
rents from passing cloud, and the girl
caught up the child and ran to the house,
leaving the precious pitcher in the hands
of the stranger. He was about to alight
and return it, when an elderly gentleman
in black, and looking ike a clergyman,
came down the walk and invited him to
stay until the storm was over.
1t was too great temptation to resist
The host pointed out to the servant the
stable, and, under a capacious umbrella,
the guest was ushered to the door of
pretty cottage, half hidden by woodbine
and honeysuckle. A sweet, pale woman
was reading by the window Two boys
were apparently studying at desk at the
farthest corner of the large room, and an
aged couple, man and wife, sat togetheri in
quaint old-fashioned arm chairs, near a
CRATE that held few red Goals, although
it was summer time.
The stranger announced himself as Sir
John Fenwick, and received in return the
information that his host was clergyman,
and an introduction to his aged parents,
his wife and children. The rain continu-
ing, Sir John was easily persuaded to re-
main to tea, and on that day was laid the
foundation of love between the young
baronet and sweet Carrie Seymour that
ended in a speedy marriage The honey
moon was spent in Paris-a new sphere
for the young and experienced bride.
The pair then retired to Fenwick Hall,
where Carries good sense, fine education,
amiable disposition and refined manners
riveted the love which her beauty had
awakened.
Sir John had two sisters, however, to
whom all these qualities did not compen-
safe for the brides want of wealth and
family influence. They we're invariably
attempting to disparage her before her
husband, and the iuvariable sweetness
with which she received their Sights and
inuendoes did not render them less bitter
in their dislike of her. Unfortunately.
they were likely to be permanent guests
at Fenwick Hall, since they had arrived
at an age in which their chances for mar
riage were perceptibly decreasing-Miss
Bertha Fenwick being nearly forty and
Miss Euphemia certainly thirty-fve.-
They worshipped their brother, more be-
cause he was now the head of their house
than on the account of any deep personal
affection, for of that they seemed incapable.
They contrived to throw the only cloud
over Carrie that ever had disturbed her
happiness. When her son was born they
seemed coldly indifferent to the event,
never noticing the little stranger, nor
speaking of 1t in acknowledgment of its
being the heir of Fenwick. Not all the
winning sweetness of the boy, who inner
tied the disposition of his mother, could
bave any effect upon the two aunts, who
sometimes administered severe reproofs
and sometimes ignored his existence alto
gether. In either case he was always
admonished by his mother to appear per-
fectly unconscious of any intention on
their part TO affront or mortify.
Carrie and her son had been absent for
several days, visiting friend, and in the
meantime, Miss Bertha Fenwick and her
sister had left no stone unturned to pre-
judice Sir John against his wife. Finding
this more difficult task than they had
anticipated, they invented story so horri-
BILE that it changed the whole current of feel
ings toward her. They both declared that
Carrie had confessed to them that the
child whom he had believed to be his own
was that of another foreigner, whom
Carrie had known while in Paris.
FOolishly believing this story, not con-
sidering the utter improbability of con-
fession like this, Sir Johns rage was be-
yond all bounds He swore to expel her
from his house, and that her son should
be banished with her. So great was his
grief and passion, SO deep his modification,
that Miss Euphemia earnestly entreated
her sister to undeceive him.
Fooll' exclaimed the elder, would YOU
have me undo the only plot which has
ever had any effect upon him?
"But your conscience, sister," reioined