The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1879-02-06

| uStUC HILL
"In the meanwhile Bolton Black ha.
seated himself on the grass beside He
nora Leigh, and thrown one arm care
lessly around her waist.
"Nora," said he, give made up M
mind"
GAS to what?'
She looked up fondly into his dark
Castilian face.
GAS to the propriety of our bein,
married next month. jennings saw
l am to have partnership, and SCI
my way clear at once. I've spoken t
the agent about the little house il
Clifton street, and"
"Oh, Bolton, do you think tina
house will be large enough?'' inter
rupted Honora, with troubled face.
"Large enough for what?'
=" For the children. There are foul
OF them, you know, and"
mo-" said Mr.. Black, abruptly
II don't think it will be large enough
| Il didn't mean that it should. You
surely cannot intend, Honora, to bur.
den our household with your aunt's
four children? They are nothing to
me, and they should be nothing to you.
daresay can find some excellent in.
stitution where"
81 promised my aunt on her dying
bed that the children should never lack
a mothers care" said Honora, who
had grown very pale.
"And you have kept your word,' -
broke in Black, impatiently. "For
two years you have fed, clothed and
supported them out of your slender
earnings. It's all nonsense to keep up
this sort of thing any longer. The
boys arc big enough to work; the girls
can easily be provided form an orphan
asylnm."
"Oh, Belton-neverr'
"Just as you please" said Mr..
Black, his face growing as hard as ada
mant.
"But remember one thing, Nora,
you must choose between me and
them.'
Honora uttered sobbing cry.
Bolton, Belton," walled she, chow
can you be so hard?''
Il am only sensible and practical"
"They are so little, so helpless. Oh.
cannot turn them over to the cruel
mercies of the world" pleaded Honora.
That must be for you to decide"
She sat for a minute looking at the
tiny child-tgures as they fitted about
on the edge of the wood, listening to
their innocent laughter; then she looked
up into his face.
II have decided" said she. clean
not leave the children
Bolton Blacks brow grew dark as
night.
"Very well," said he, rising to his
feet; "you know all that that implies. :"
EYES," in low, tremulous tone.
"And you are willing to abide by it?"
eyes"
Good-by, then," extending a cold
hand.
"Good-by, Belton.''
And her eyes followed him with q
vague, fascinated gaze, as he strobe
out of the green glade and was lost to
view.
"Have l done right?' she asked her.
self, with sharp pain at her heart;
and then, as little Nelly came up, cry
ing out Mora, Nora, me got form in
me finger!' and holding up the tiny
digit, with tear-stained cheeks, she
caught the child in her arms and sobbed
out:
"God help me! Yes, l have done
right, for these orphan little ones have
no one but me-"
So Honora Leigh went back to her
life of patient drudgery and ceaseless
toll once more. And the rich gentle
man on the first floor, who saw her go
in and out with her little sachel of
books and her roll of music, asked her
landlady who she was.
It's Miss Leigh, SIR" said the wo-
man. "a daily governess, and one of
the sweetest self-denying young ladies
as ever gave up her life for the benefit
of Others"
"Humph"' said the rich gentleman.
"There are not many such in the
world"
mo, sir; indeed there's not - said
Mrs. Moore.
How the rich gentleman on the first
floor became acquainted with the daily
governess-how the children began to
run in and out of his room, aud ask
him to tell them marvellous stories of
America, whence he came-and how
at last pretty Honora went back to
America with him as his wife, would
make too long recital in detail. Suf-
flee it to say that such was the fact.
"God bless the little Ones" MIR. Bon
field said; ''there's room and to spare
for them in my home. And, to my
thinking, there is no sweeter sound
about house than children's voices"
And if anything could have made
Honora love her husband more dearly
than she had done before, it would have
been these words of his.
And the years went by, and the little
children grew up into health and beau
ty, and Honora, in her satins, had
almost forgotten the sore straits of her
carly girlhood, when one day the past
was recalled to her by most unexpect-
ed accident.
If you please, Mrs. Bon6eld," said
the cook one day, an honest, warm
hearted Milesian, "Tim says there's a
poor family sittlin' down in the old
cottage by the gates as is most starvin' /.
Sure says I to Tim, why don't you
U0A GA0 mISScSs DAYS ue: w nat 1Or
wud l be botherin' her, and they
nothin' to her?' Says 1: The hand
of her never was closed again the sick
an the poor, an I'll tell her, Tim, ,
says I, 8 if you DON'T"
"You are quite right, Mary" said
Mrs. Bonfield. 81 will 90 this even
ing and inquire into the case.''
And with Charley carving a basket
in which was piled a goodly supply of
jelly, wine, home-bread and hot-house
grapes, Honora walked to the RUNE d
cottage at dusk.
Alas! for the squalor and poverty of
the wretched place-a candle burning
on the hearth, gaunt form out
stretched on heap of straw, with
fever-glowing cheeks, and eyes rolling
restlessly in their sunken sockets, while
by the door sat faded woman, rock
ing a child to and fro in her lap.
II hope we're not intruding, ma am,' -
said she, with something Of q lady's
courtesy and accent; "but nv husband
could 60 no farther. We are on our