The Lamoille news. (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1877-1881, 1878-02-13
LEARNING HIS VALUE.

Mr.. Marcus Wilkinson sat alone in
his office, with a dainty little perfumed
note between his fingers, and puzzled
frown upon his brow. The note directed
in graceful feminine hand was brief:
DEAR GUARDIAN Il will be at your Office at
ten in the morning, to consult you upon mat
ter Of importance. MILLIE.
GA matter of Importance" muttered
Mr.. Wilkinson, twisting the note ner-
vously. "Can my fears be true? Has
Cyril Ormsby proposed to my pearl? 1
am afraid he has And what can say !?
What can 1 urge against the man, if
Miles own 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 clerk, and
Millie Bently entered the room.
Just few words to describe the ward
of whom Marcus Wilkinson always
thought as a pearl, a lily, everything
pure and fair. She was of medium
height, slender and graceful, with a
thoughtful face of exquisite beauty.
Very young, only eighteen, Millie
Bently had borne early the sorrows of
life. Her father, having been wealthy,
failed in business, and committed sui
eide. Her mother, delicate and helpless
had fought poverty feebly for two years,
and sinking under privation and toll,
had contracted fatal disease. When
all hope of life was over, the news came
that Miles uncle, dying abroad, had
left 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, aud womanly beyond her
years, Mile had turned from her own
grief to noble endeavor to solace some
of the trials of those with whom her
own poverty had made her familiar. A
cousin had come at Mr.. Wilkinson's re-
quest to make home for his ward, and
she resumed many long-interrupted
studies. But 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 Mr..
Wilkinson, as already described, and
the sorrows of her life had lost some of
their bitter sting, leaving only gentle
sadness behind.
"Well, Millie," the old gentleman
said, "what brings to me the pleasure of
seeing you to-day?"
"It is about myself" Millie said, the
softest rose-tints flushing her cheeks.
"Dear me! 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" I"
said the old gentleman, addressing the
walls. whenever am Uncle Marc, I
know what to expect next"
But just then the kindly man detected
signs of trouble in Miles face; and the
iesting voice was turned at once to one
of tender gravity.
"What is it, my child?"
"Cyril Ormsby came to me last even
ing, aid he will come here to-day; but 1
wanted to see you first. He wants me
to be his wife, Uncle Marc, and "-she
hesitated here-"you do not like him !"
"Who told you that ?"
"No one; but see it for myself"
"Well, you are right. do not like
him. But my like or dislike has no con-
troll over you"
"No control |" Miles voice was
piteous. "Please don't talk SO. come
to you as / would have gone to my
father"
"There, dear, was wrong. Tell me,
then, as you would have told your father,
do you love Mr.. Ormsby? ?"
81 think he is the noblest man I ever
knew. II you could see him with some
Of my poor people, how gentle and court
eous he is, you would like him, too. He
has given me so much sympathy in my
work, Uncle Marc, feeling, as do, that