The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1878-02-27
LEARNING HIS VALUE.

LEARNING HIS VALUE
Mr.. Marcus Wilkinson sat alone IN
his Office, with a dainty little perfumed
note between his fingers, and a puzzled
crown upon his brow. The note directed
IN a graceful feminine hand was brief:
DEAR GUARDIAN Il will be at your office at
ten in the morning, to consult you upon q mat
.sr of importance. MILE.
"a matter of Importance" muttered
Mr. Wilkinson, twisting the note ner-
vously. "Can my fears be true? Has
Cyril Ormsby proposed to my pearl? l
an afraid he has! And what can l say!
What can I urge against the man, If
Miles wi instincts have played her
false? Ten o'clock! !"
The last silvery stroke of the mantel-
clock had not died away when the door
Of the Office was opened by a clerk, and
MillieBently entered the room: .
Just a few words to describe the ward
of whom Marcus Wilkinson always
thought as a pearl, q lily. everything
pure and fair. She was OF medium
height, slender and graceful, with a
thoughtful face of exquisite beauty.
Very young, only eighteen, Mile
Bently had borne early the sorrows OF
life. Her father, having been wealthy,
failed in business, and committed u
eide. Her mother, delicate and helpless
had fought poverty feebly for two years,
and sinking under privation n toll,
had contracted q fatal disease. When
all hope of life was over, the news came
that Miles uncle, dying abroad, had
left a large fortune to his only sister. A
will was made by the dying woamn leav-
ing her own too.lately won independence
to Mile. and appointing their old friend
Marcus Wilkinson, guardian to the
heiress.
Sorrowing, and womanly beyond her
wears, Mile had turned from her own
grief to a noble endeavor to solace some
Of the trials of those with whom her
own poverty had made her familiar. A
cousin had come at Nj. Wikinson's re-
quest to. make a home for his ward, and
she resumed many long-interrupted
studies. But a large portion OF her time
was spent in the humble homes Of those
who had been her mothers friends IN the
dark days of widowhood; and her gentle
charities soon extended far beyond this
small circle.
She had been an orphan two years on
the day when she came to seek MIR.
Wilkinson, as already described, and
the sorrows of her life had lost some OF
their bitter sting, leaving only a gentle
sadness behind.
"Well, Millie," the old gentleman
said, "what brings to me the pleasure Of
seeing you to-day?
at is about myself" Mile said, the
soitest rose-tints flushing her cheeks.
"Dear mel I didn't know you ever
took such an insignificant person into
consideration at all"
"Now, Uncle Marc, please don't
tease"
"She wants something enormous"
said the old gentleman, addressing the
walls. Whenever I am Uncle Marc, 1
know what to expect next"
But just then the kindly man detected
signs oil trouble in Miles face; and the
iosting voice was turned at once to one
of ten''er gravity.
"What is it, my child?"
"Cyril Ormsby came to me last even.
ing, aid he will come here to-day; but I
wanted to see you first. BE wants me
to be his wife, Uncle Marc, and"-she
hesitated here-"you do not like him"
"Who told you that
"No one; but I see it for myself"
swell, you are right. I do not like
him. But my like or dislike has no con-
troll over YOU"
"No control! |" Miles voice was
piteous. "Please don'ttalk so. leone
to you as I would have gone to my
father"
"There, dear, I was wrong. Tell me,
then, as you would have told your father,
10 you love Mr.. Ormsby? ?"
81 think he is the noblest man 7 ever
knew. If you could see him with some
of my poor people, how gentle and court
eous he is, you would like him, too. He
las given me so much sympathy in my
work, Uncle Marc, feeling, as I do, that
the possession of great wealth is but a
stewardship"
"And SO won your loye2"
"My respect and admiration, uncle.
I cannot yet realize that a man so noble
and 80 good can really desire my com
partnership and help in his life. But
since he does. I am glad and proud to
lave won his confidence"
"Hem-yes! Enthusiastic, but heart
whole |" was Mr.. Wilkinson's mental
comment. "Suppose you and I go for
II walk ?" he added aloud.
GA walk?" Mile said in a tone OF
surprise.
eyes. Ihave a friend or two I should
like to have you see. When we come
back I will tell you why I dislike Cyril
Ormsby, it," he added, mentally, lyon
have not already found out"
1t was not exactly such q walk as one
= would have mapped out for a gentle
mans invitation to q young, beautiful
girl; but Mile followed it's course,
leaning upon her guardians arm, won
dering a little, but never hesitating, past
the respectable portion of the city, to a
quarter known as the Factory Rows
place where Mr.. Wilkinson had never
before allowed his wardto 60. For there
we're apt to be fevers and contagious
diseases lurking there. 1t lay low, and
was unhealthy, and the houses were OF
the meanest description.
"For a noble philanthropist, partly
owning these factories and this quarter,
Mr. Ormsby seems neglectful, said Mr..
Wilkinson, dryly. 81 have an interest
IN the factories, as you are aware, but
do not own one of these wretched
houses. They are all Cyril Ornsby's.'
But" Mile said eagerly, "these
people will not let him benefit them,
They use his charity for drink; they
nhnsa INV nriyilepa he gives them. til