The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-04-30
at the same time playfullv fiicking the


aforementioned, who in his interest in
Miss Spooner's story had neglected to fan
the rival of Madame De Sevigne, after
having been captured and detailed for
that duty only five minutes before.
"And when her husband died." con-
tinued the fair Isabella "(he was the
younger son of an aristocratic English
family, one of the very highest-intimate
with the Queen-and he ran away to this
country on lark, and his folks disowned
him because they thought he married be-
low him, though I've no doubt she was
much too good for him, and he treated her
shockingly), his father sent for the boy.
and tore him from. mis- weeping mothers
arms"
"And rocked not tear or prayer, =
quoted Mrs. Dusenberry. -.
"But why did she let them take him?'
shouted the captain. By heavens! they
couldn't have taken him if she'd a held
on. Foreigners tearing citizens of the
United States from,their mothers arms
Who ever heard of such thing before"'
"Well, they didn't exactly tear him
away" explained his niece. -.
"That's the poetical way of putting it, "
interpolated Mrs. Dusenberry. ..
"But she was left almost destitute" "
Miss Spooner went on, "and she's deli
cate little thing, and"
Circumstances were too many for
her," suggested the pork merchant.
" Just So" assented his hostess. But,
most fortunately, she possesses the gift of
song; and with what her writings bring
her in, and the presents which are show
cred on her wherever she goes-she is
such a favorite-she manages to get along.
l met her at Mrs. Bluclight's party last
winter, andwc took such fancy to each
other right off, and she told me .er story
in the Conservatory. Young Chandler
was there, too, but she didn't see him; he
was at the other end of the room, behind
some tall plants-he was very attentive to
her afterward, and gave her apearl brace
let on her birthday-and cried till my
nose looked like a" .1. .-,.. e.. r
CHERRY" suggested Mrs. Dusenberry,
adding in asprightly manner: Captain.
if YOU desert me for this enchantress, I'll
never forgive you," to the great astonish-
ment of tie honest captain, who had not
exchanged three sentences with the lady,
and, indeed, had never seen her until this
very July afternoon. ..... ......
"Well," said Mrs. Spooner, changing q
ring from the forefinger Of her right hand
to the forefnger of her left, " we must all
be very kind to her. l sympathize with
her with all my heart about her child. !
know how I'd feel if lost you, Isabella.
".My babelet sweetn" murmured
Mrs. Dusenberry, fixing her peculiar
80. -. I ~. fr;ond m which tho era,uty
youth at her side dropped the fan, and
burst into loud outlaw, ''
"Hush!' cried Miss Isabella. Here
she is" -..'... .....
And up the garden walk tripped u
slight girlish-looking woman, dressed
in a .blue-gray silk, with a Gainsbor-
ough hat, from which fioated q long
black ostrich plume, oquettishlyset on
the back Of her head. Her pale yellow
hair hung in babyish curls about her
snow-white brow, and she raised pair
of. lovely yellow-brown eyes to the
group on the veranda., ~. -a..,. -.
Miss Spooner, with astonishing quick
ness, considering how stout she was,
ran down the steps and caugh int her
friend in her arms. :" You darling"
she said, with enthusiasm, "we have
iustlbeen' reading. your sweet, sweet
poem, "A Mothers VAIL Welcome
to the homesteadn'
:" How beautiful it isl" said the lit
tie woman, rclasping her daintily kidded
hands, "and speaking in q low clear
voice perfectly audible to the listeners
above as she turned toward the river.
THAT glimpse of the water! the grand
old trees! the fragrance of the air! and "
raising her beautiful eyes-''the glori
Gus sky. so ike"-with a catch in her
breath-"so like the eyes of my lost.
my darling boy" -.
In less than week every man in
that house was more or less in love
with Mrs. Montgomery Montague-the
captain, the pork merchant, the old
clerks and the young clerks: = i
And the women-weH, the women
didn't like her as well rs they did be-
fore she came. yprs T..
"She's pretty enough and clever
enough" said Mrs. Dusenberry, but l
for one am getting tired Of her blue
eyed boy. As I said in letter of mine
to a distinguished literary gentleman
Immediately upon reading it he enrolled
himself among my band Of admirers
L have lost children, lost them in the
grave, but I never bring my shadows
to cloud the sunshine Of my friends. >"
And, to do her justice, she never did.
On the contrary, SO uncommonly well
did she bear her bereavements that one
could scarcely believe she" had ever
been bereaved.
But to 60 back to the pretty poets
lovers. Captain Hottop was the most
devoted of them all. He had never been
in love before, and love, like scarlet fe-
yer, is most serious complaint when
contracted late in life. He followed Mrs.
Montague around like a faithful, loving
slave, carrying heavy shawl to spread
on the grass when she chose to sit be-
meath the trees, and large umbrella to
shield her from the sun when it was her
pleasure to ramble along the road. He
named his sailboat Lillian " after her,
bought pony and phaeton and placed
them at her service, swung her for hours
in the hammock which hung in the
or5nard, and listened with patient, heart
felt sympathy to her longings for her
blue-eyed boy. ..,. .,,,-...
BLESSED if it amt too badw said he
one day (they were sitting beneath the
catalpa-trees). as the little widow pressed
her lace handkerchief to her eyes to dry
the tears that sprung to them just after
she had remarked that the twittering of
the dear little birds was so like baby'S
voice. III" Couldn't you git him away
from them folks? Pears to me I couldn't
refuse you anything when you clasp your
hands and look at me with tears in your
eyes"
'"Oh, captain" sobbed the sorrowing
mother, there are very few people in
the world like you-very few. You are
one in thousand-yeS, five thousand.
But 1 never had a chance to appeal to
them personally. I was very i'll when
when they took my darling away; and
letters, with no matter how much feel
ing we write them, are so cold"
"Why don't you try personally
then?" asked the captain, swinging her
dainty parasol about, to the imminent
danger of the delicately carved handle.
She blushed, cast down her yellow
brown eyes, raised them again, looked
him in the face like child resolved tc
tell the truth. however painful it may be,
and said, Il have no money wherewith
to pay my passage to England. Under
stand me, I would willingly, most viii
lingly, be a steerage passenger, a steward
ess, anything-anything to bring me
nearer my child. But coming to them
save as beftted the wife of their son and
brother my husbands proud family
-.,,1l oort,;nlv dicopyn mo ond