The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1878-02-27
u1Tr Wilkinson pas ont she bepar

gratitude awakened without the CALLING
sense of obligation. She left more than
sufficient for comfort for some weeks, and
promised to send delicacies for the in
valid.
No word of herself passed her lips IN
til they were once more in the narrow
street. .
"Oh, Uncle Marc" she said. can it
be true that he is so hard, SO false to
me?"
"Wait," was the brief reply.
They went into the wide courtyard in
whose space stood the four great factor
les. the Joint property of Marcus Viii.
kinson and Cyril Ormsby, long before
divided by the entirely opposite manage
ment of these two into two distinct de-
partments-one entirely under the r
troll of the elder, the other of the young
er man.
"Wilkinsou's absurd soft-hearted.
ness" as Cyril mentally characterized
it, had made this division absolutely
necessary"
But it was not into his own kindly
governed, well-ordered departments
that he led his ward. He turned into q
small room, where a pale man was bust
~ writing, and at the same time over
looking a long room, where about seven
ty girls were at work before busily
whirling machines. :.
"Good morning, Watkins" the old
gentleman said. 81 was in hopes that
You we're taking q holiday"
"Thank you, sir !" was the reply in a
detected tone. "Ican't we'll quit work,
sir. There's the wife and six little ones,
you see."
"Have you told Mr.. Ormsby the doc
tor says that your life depends upon a
few weeks of rest and pure air?
eyes, sir. He'snot keeping me; but
he says if I 90 he must fill my place
and that means starvation for my family.
I could get a new situation, as
eeble as I am now
"How long have you been here, Mr..
Watkin's?"
"Seventeen years, sir. I was with
old MI. Ormsby before you came, sir"
"a faithful servant seventeen years T.
said Mr.. Wilkinson, in a low tone;
"and a few weeks rest may save his
life I"
At this moment Mile shrank a little
nearer her guardian. Through the win
dow from which Mr.. Watkins overlooked
the loom-room, she could see Cyril
| Ormsby, walking briskly about, his
! voice harsh and imperative, finding fault
here and there, and keenly scrutinizing
every item of the work. Not a face in
the long room was frightened by the
presence of the master. Fingers worked
more rapidly, eyes we're fastened per-
sistently upon the looms, and every one
seemed aware of a stern task-master's
gaze. But Mr.. Wilkinson obeyed the
mute petition expressed in the looks of
his ward, and led Mile out into the
wide passages again, to another work
room.
1t we're too tedious a task to follow
every step of these two as they passed
from to room, everywhere meet
ing some assurance of MI. Wilkinson's
own hold upon the hearts of the
"hands," and their terror of Cyril
OIulSUJ . uoIoluCoos
Out again amongst the squalid homes,
where her guardian had no control, but
bestowed his kindly charity without o.
tentatior; and here, more eloquently
than ever Mile heard how cruel a
mockery we're all the schemes of charity
and philanthropy that had been poured
into her ears. It needed no spoken
words from her guardian to tell her that
the noble words uttered to win her were
but those OF hypocrisy, which knew how
it could best plead its with her:
One and another, turning to MI.
Wilkinson as to a friend, unaware of the
torture of their words to the kindly lady
beside him, told of cruel exactions Of
work in sickness or trouble, of closest
calculation of time, of small wages and
heavy rents.
eff We won't live here and pay, we
get no work in the factories! !" one said,
when asked why she did not seek a more
healthy quarter.
CT am doing overtime to pay for my
child's funeral" one said, 'sfor I lost the
wages for three days. I stayed by her
to see her die, and to bury her."
"l'm uneasy about the rent" another
said, "for I lost a week by a fall on the
ice, and it's hard making it up again"
Not one word of kindly sympathy, of
help, in trouble or sickness. The
Glands" under Cyril Ormsby were
simply human machines to do so much
work, sick or well, or pay the price of
an hour or a day of idleness, no matter
how necessary.
There was no words spoken as MIR.
Wilkinson and Mile walked to the Office
again. Once there, the old gentleman
spoke, very gravely.
Gas your guardian, Mile, I can
speak to you no word against Cyril
Ormsby. He is a rich man, of good
social position, of ir~reproachahle moral
reputation, and a nan whose standing
in business circles is of the highest. A
man who is a good match in every
worldly sense. SO much for your guard
ian. As your friend, my pearl, who
loves you as your own dead father might
have loved you, who knows every noble
impulse of your pure soul-as that
friend, I tell you I would rather see you
lying beside your mother than the
broken hearted wife of such q man as
Cyril Ormsby."
CT came to you as a friend, as almost
a father" said Mile, "and I thank you
for keeping me from lifelong misery.
To know my husband such a man as I
now know Cyril Ormsby to be, would,
as you say, break my heart"
II would not tell YOU" said her
guardian, "for you knew I disliked him,
and might have thought that dislike
prejudiced me. But, Mile, tell me
you will not let this days work shadow
your life. You did not love Cyril, Mil
lie?"
emo. 1 reverenced what I believed a
noble, generous nature. Thatreverence
a mockery, I shall never break my heart
for a man I thoroughly despise, Uncle
Marc"
And so it Happened that Cyril Ormsby,
coming to claim the fortune he believed
within his grasp, met only Mr.. Wilkin"
son, with Mollie's polite but distinct re-
fusal to resign herself or her fortune to
his keeping.
But he never knew how it was that
Mile learned the true value of his hol-
low words of charity and philanthropy.