Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1880-06-19

had left withouta sign or word FOR
him Oh Paul, my love, l have /
lost you! We shall never find each |
other now until it is too late"
AI'm so glad you've come" cried |
her landladys as she led l4ersin.
81 We. a-chAnce. for you. if you like |
TO take it. Ny daughters boy is so |
sick She can't leave, him, and this |
very evening she was to have gone |
70 her new place, to be old Mrs. !
Sinclair's housekeeper. IT. is not
quite the position for you, know
mot quiteyour proper station-but
| thought"
"Dear Mrs. Gray, am too poor
to choose; mysmall stock of money
is all gone, and / am in your debt
already. If you think / can fulfil
the duties of the position, / shall be
but too glad to take it. Pride of
statfonswill not trouble me.2'S kt
"Then go at once, dear. The cab
that was TO have taken my daugh-
ter is at the door-put your things
together and go. 1t may be that
Mrs. Sinclair will think you too
Young, but she'll take you for the
present, at least, until Mrs. Davis
can come to her. You tell her
sent you, and you'll see.p ah
So Edith, feeling like one in a
dream, drove to the address that
had been given her, and asking for
Mrs. Sinclair, sent word that her
new housekeeper was below. tttlna
III OF course Mrs. Sinclair concluded
! that the tall and lovely but SORROW
full looking girl was Mrs. Gray's
daughter, Mrs. Davis moreover,
she being exceedingly deaf, Edith
found it almost impossible to make
her understand the contrary. 90
'tYou are young, to be a widow,
and the mother of "a 4-year-old
child" said she. "God help us
What trouble some people have to
endure, to be sure Well, well,
you'll have a comfortable home
with me, if you suit me, my dear,
AND ne, ! haye1 poE doubt thar You
my name is Merrion," began
Edith, somewhat more loudly. The
old lady put up her 'wrinkled hand
/ and shook her head. " ="
/ "a merry one !" said she. "No,
no, my dear, have no fear of that.
| live very quietly, indeed. No
merFiment to jar upon your feelings
here but quiet and comfortable en-
ough."
So, then, Edith, weary and faint
1 for lack of food and sick at heart,
resolved to let the mistake 60 for
the present; there would be plenty
of opportunities to rectify it after
wards.
GAS / have taken Mrs. Davis's
place, l will borrow her name as
/ wellp she thought. ''It will only
be till the child gets well, most
probably. And my head aches so
! bitterly tonight l am not able to
talk to her.. Mrs. DAYS. be it then,
Iuntil tomorrow, at all events"
But though Imam proposes, tits
! God disposes." That proverb, be it
ever so musty, is always true and
| Just as mistakenly as Paul had said
FOniy fora week, dIrling,' nearly
! two months ago, did Edith tell her
self "until tomorrow" now.
For tomorrow" the racking
| headache had increased until she
! was almost blind with agony. Dur
/ ing the first hours of the morning
she c.ept around the house in a
brave and mute endeavOT to under
stand and perform her duties, but
when noon came she tainted sud-
denly, and had to be carried to her
| bed. 3H3f
Mrs Sinclair Was-e exceedingly
kind.
eThe pOorsoul she had a deal of
trouble for one so Young, shesaid.
She has worn herself out with woF.
ry and fatigue, / suppose, in look
ing fOE place, I've sent for the
docfor,aand. shall nurse. her round
again. As yourself and Mr.. Sin
clair are going to be absent from
home awhile, shah be able to man
age quite nicely, | dare Say.oA- 4 -
This kind little speech was made
to her husbands partner, who usu-
ally made their house his home. A
Bfnan some twenty years Mr.. Sim
clair's junior, and the son of a dear
! old friend. Whether business wor-
rieS or private anXieties engrOSsed
his thoughts, l cannot tell, but he
paid small attention TO the old
lady's account of her protege, and
merely in politeness asked her
name.
Mrs. Davis. "A young widow
dear me very young with one
child. \ really beautiful creature,
too; and seems fitted for a better
station. How unfortunate some
people are !" st|
Her companion looked into her
gentle, kind old face.
"This one is fortunate, rather, I
should Think he said, Gin having
come to you"
And really, it seemed so. Mrs.
Sinclair was kindness itself to the
poor girl, and tried hard to keep
the place for her; but when the
days heightened into weeks, and
Edith, though recovering, was weak
and delicate still, the bona tide Mrs.
Davis came to take the place of
house-keeper.
"And don't you let it discourage
you one bit, my dear" said Mrs.
Sinclair, kindly, and with a merry
twinkle of her bright black eyes.
."pve got a filter situation waiting
for you, Edith Merton. Well, well, |
to think that things should come |
about so And what Il deaf old adj |
der l was, to be sure !" ...
You don't ask about my pro- |
tege," she said to her husbands |
partner that evening. 81 believe |
you had fOrgotten all about the poor |
child. Have YOU no heart for any |
one but your lost Edith? Better |
try to forget her, / think, since she |
has been lost so long"
Paul Selden sighed bitterly.
"That would be impossible, he
said. 81 have begun to lose hope,
indeed, but l shall never cease to
love her. I went to her father,
while in Chicago lately, and from
him l learn that she is in this city
still, for they write to her at the
post-Ofiice here. For the past two
weeks they have not heard from
her, however, and have grown very
uneasy. My poor, lost darlingI
Sick, perhaps, and poor! / shall
engage detective tomorrow"
They were sitting iu Mrs. Sin
clair's boudoir, and Paul had spO-
ken loudly for the deaf old lady's
benefit. As he ceased there came a
little eager, gasping cry from the
room. Paul started.
"What's that ?''cried he, and rose
As
Tho old lady laid her hand upOn