Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1878-12-13

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her suspicious, but Miss Dorothy re.
manned in blissful ignorance as to the
true state of affairs.
The last Thursday in August was an
eventful day for Rose. An old friend Of
Miss Dorothy's, travelling to the lakes,
stopped for flying visit at Ardleigh.
Mrs. Somers (such was the ladys name)
seemed much struck with Roses face,
and at last, an opportunity Offering
itself, she drew the girl aside. "Par-
don me if 1 seem inquisitive. Are you
EnglishP'
+" 1 come from Virginia, but my father
was born in Devonshire, answered Rose,
in surprise.
"I thought so. Tell me, was your
mothers name Rose-Rose Larrimer ?"
Undoubtedly, replied Rose.
i knew it" cried the lady, evidently
much excited. "Rose, your mother and
l were old schoolmates and dear friends
years ago. was sure the moment l
saw your face that you must be her
daughter. Where is your mother now p
I'm heaven, 1 hope. She died three
years ago. You know my father was
killed in the war, and we lost our prop
erty. After that, mamma took in sew.
ing, and II did what I could. After
she died I struggled along how, do
not know--for three years, and this
summer Miss Atherton found me,
brought me here, and has helped me in
every way. She has found me place
as companion to an invalid lady, and I
60 there in two weeks"
"How old are you-twenty ?"
Eighteen" said the girl.
"And you have been motherless for
three years, poor child Give me your
address; 1 may want it. There is Miss
Arnold looking for us-come," and Rose
found herself listening to her own story
before she fairly realized where she was.
This was event number one. Number
two was almost as surprising to her.
Wayne, coming in from walk late in
the afternoon, looked into half dozen
rooms, then went to Miss Dorothy on
the piazza.
"Auntie, where is Rose ?"
"In the garden" answered Miss Dor
othy, and then, seeing Wayne hesitate,
she added, "she is alone, if you want
10 speak TO her.
"Then you know - began Wayne.
But Miss Arnold interrupted, "Of
course I know. Do speak to her at
once. The Carols are coming on Sat-
urday, and / should like this affair set.
tied at once. Have you spoken to
Charity?"
"No, there will be time enough for
that afterward," and Mr.. Arnold walked
away, while Miss Dorothy gave sigh
of satisfaction. "She will go at last
II Wayne had only taken my view of the
case beforehand yet l half like the
child. Still, she had better go at once. >
Twenty minutes later, Wayne came
slowly back, looking decidedly crest
fallen. Instead of gentle, timid girl,
and whispered yes, he had found a
very thorny Rose, and had received a
very decided rejection. Wayne had put
his question with too much self-con-
fidence, and Roses pride had speedily
given him his answer. Mr.. Arnold de-
parted for Portland the next morning
"on business, and Saturday saw Rose
ON her way to New York, leaving Chari-
ty very much exasperated at the result
of what Miss Dorothy had dubbed
"Charity's charity"
Time sped on, and at last there came
a change for Rose. Charity, looking up
from an open letter, one morning in
December, uttered an exclamation that
caused both her companions to look up
inquiringly.
"Ross has gone to Europe. Her
uncle Hugh. Mrs. Atherton's brother,
has come here to take her to his home
in England. It seems he lost an only
child, two years ago, and he is going to
adopt our Rose. Her mother married
against her brothers wishes, and for a
long while there was no communication
between them. When he did try to
trace his sister, he could not find any
news of her. 1t is through Mrs. Somers
that he has found Rose now. She
seems to be very happy"
Charity was right. Rose was happy;
and no wonder, since she had pleasant
home and the kindest of friends. Both
aunt and uncle were well prepared to
love their new. found niece, and before
the girl had been week in her new
home she had won warm place in the
hearts of both. Squire Larrimer began
to indulge the hope that Rose would re-
main Rose Atherton all her days, and
stay quietly at home but the fates in
terposed. One chilly day in spring the
squire came hastily into the room where
Rose and her aunt were sitting. There
had been q fire at the village inn, and
one person, stranger, had been badly
hurt. &C. told them to bring him here,
he said, opening the door of the next
room, which happened to be bedroom.
eft was the bravest thing ever saw. A
child had been left in the attic, and when
she was discovered, no one would risk
trying to save her till this young Ameri-
can cameforward. He saved the little
one. but it was narrow escape for them
both. The child is not hurt, but my
brave fellow will lose his right arm, they
say; rafter fell on him and crushed it.
How he ever managed to save the child
is a mystery little short OF miracle.
There come the men. Run, Rose, and
bring me plenty of bandages, The doc.
men. Put him on the bed gently so. u
Rose, coming back, caught one glimpse,
through the half-opened door, of pale
face. "Oh, the poor fellow !" she cried,
With all her heart in her voice and that
voice caused the dark eyes to open in
an instant.
"Rosel" Only that one word, but il
was enough.
"Wayne Oh, my poor, poor boy ! y
and in another moment Rose was kneel-
ing by the bedside, sobbing as though
her heart would break.
"Heyday |" cried the squire in amaze.
ment, and Rose looked up smiling
through her tears. "He loved me over
there, uncle, and if he cares for me
still -
Well. no matter what Wayne said.