The daily gazette., 1880-02-18
Mrs. Beaufort's Son.


jacket, found on the bank where he
had laid them when he went into bathe
silly child had not been enough
to convince the mother that her mis-
sing boy was lost to her. Yet it was
close to where the river fell into the
sea, and where the tide was strong -
how, then, could she hopep But this
litter news, the finding of this half-de-
cayed body Of little boy, which the
finder had been obliged to bury at
once-this was too plain to be denied.
She must give him up. fsf
rs. Beaufort closed her doors and
sa down in her splendid mansion to
mourn. Her servants came and went
about her but she would see no one else.
Her own kindred were too far away.
across the ocean in the New World to
come to her; and she had known these
of her people husbands only during
the year that he had been master Of
Beaufort Manor.
He had been separated from his
friends, houseless wanderer, and they
had cared nothing for him, till old Mr..
Beaufort, the bachelor lord of the
manor, dying; had, to their astonish-
ment and indignation, left the great
fortune which they had confidently
expe cted would be divided between
two families nearest of kin, to scape-
grace, wandering Bernard Beaufort.
1t was for this, then, that they had
tiattered and petted the eccentric, GROSS
old man 1t was for this they had
lied to him over and over, and vowed
that they expected nothing from him,
and wanted nothing, and came to sec
only him, not the manor. They had
borne his sardonic,grins, when he list
ened to their falsehood, only that Ber-
nard Beaufort, whom they hardly ac-
knowledged for relation, and his
American wife, whom they had never
acknowledged at all, and their boy,
should inherit Beaufort Manor and all
the old mans property, except the hun
dred pounds apiece which he had,
mockingly bequeathed his two cousins
and their twelve children all told.
1t was unbearable And all because
Bernard had had the art to name his
boy Philip after the old man ! Had not
each of this cousins Philip, her ed
est? But he said that Bernard had
given him no notice of the naming, an,
they had, had asked no christening
present, and that he, the old man, had
heard the child's name only by acci-
dent. Therefore it must have been
named from some recollection. yI
When the new heir and his wife
came home, the relations pocketed
their wrath so far as to visit them.
II mos =, ~ xxorth x,,b;I< a. aI..4 N =.
selves out of the place because it was
not to be theirs. u ruG
Mrs. Beaufort astonished her new
relatives. They expected to. find
common person; they found a lady
more highly bred and educated than
themselves. An elegant form. habited
with exquisite tastes, a classical face,
purely pale, rich, dark hair, bright
dark eyes, and admirably self-pos-
sessed such was the new lady whom
they went to criticise and patronize.
Even when her husband died, six
months after their coming to the pro-
perty, she did not much seek their
companionship, though they then re-
doubled their attention, as theirhopes
increased.
Bernard had been an affectionate
but dissipated husband /; and if his
wife grieved for him, it was not as
one without hope, Little Philip, her
idol, now two years old, was left her.
She turned to him with all her heart.
And now he was gone Three years
old, and 30 venturesome How had he
eluded servants and mother, and play
mates? He had done so in spite of
every care. The river running past
their park had enticed him, and he
was gone. Every effort had been
made, search, advertisements, rewards
offered, but in vain and the finding
of that little body with the golden
hair in curls about the face had salts
fled her. A curl had been given the
mother and putting it side by side
with one she had cut from Philips
head only month before, they could
not be told apart.
Scarcely had the bereaved mother
mourned for her son month when
lawyers missive reached her and she
woke to the fact that it was not only
her son who was lost, but the heir of
Beaufort Manor. The relatives and
heirs had allowed her to stay so long
cut Of regard to her feelings, and be-
cause they would rather she had pro-
posed to go, and they were sorry that
she had obliged them to remind her
that by the late Philip Beaufort's win,
the property was to go to the son of
Bernard, and, in case he died childless,
to be divided between the two cousins,
the elder having the manor for life, the |
eldest son of the younger to inherit it |
at his death.
The childless widow rose up and |
went out of the sorrowful home that |
had been hers but year and half. !
No sympathy nor kindness were /
offered her now. They paid her the
moderate provision that had been
assured her, and said goodbye, with
no invitation to remain or to visit
them. She was no longer necessary
to them, and they could resent her
past coldness.
Mrs. Beaufort did not return to
America, as they had expected. She
took a cottage near, and lived in it.
She could not leave the neighborhood
where her darling's body lay, and
where his innocent soul had taken
wing. Shut up in this secluded house,
which to her was not a home, she
abandoned herself to grief. But after
a year had passed she was obliged to
rouse herself. Her health was failing,
and the good vicar, one of her faith