The Weston Democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1875-current, 1880-02-07

clothing and personal effects
packed in two large trunks, Mrs.
Marchmont left her old homo, and
turned her face to Barton, village
some twenty miles from L..
A year later, about week before
Christmas, a close hack drove
rapidly from the railway station at
t. and stopped before the house,
which Mrs Marchmont had loft
on the dreary December day, when
sho entered upon her new life. A
little figure, clad in deepest mourn.
ing, sprang from tho hack, and
mounting the steps, rang the bell.
Again and again the rcsounding
peal echoed through the great
house, but there was no answer.
At last window in tho next house
was raised, and a voice said:
"There is no one in that house.
1t is for sale"
"IVhere is Mrs. Marchmont?"
asked the lady in mourning.
81 cannot tell you. But Mr.. AL.
lison is agent for the sale of the
house."
In a moment the little black
robed figure was back at the hack
door.
"Do you know where Mr.. Allison
lives on Elm street," she asksod
the driver.
"Yes'm."
It required M extraordinary
event to upset Mr.. Allison's per.
feet reposc Of manner, but it GER
tainly was upset, about fifteen min
utes later, when a little figure in
close widows weeds entered the
library where he was reading, cry
ing:
"Oh! Mr.. Allison, is my Aunt
Lizzie dcad?"
Down went tho lawyers ponder
Gus book upon tho floor, as he
started erect.
edna Allen!" he cried. "W'here
did you come from? And in that
drcss?"
"Did you not get my letters?
Did you not know that my dear
husband was dead? And now
the house is all shut up-Aunt Liz
zic p
"Therc, there, don't cry so! Your
aunt is alive and we'll. Let me
bring your trunks in, and will toll
you all about it."
So saying, the old lawyer rang
the bell, sont a servant out for tho
travellers baggage, summoned his
sister, and then told Edna all about
it Tho long-gunrded secret could.
be kept no longer.
In the Barton Seminary, an el-
derby, white-hairod lady, with
sweet, sad face, the morning before
Christmas-day, opened a letter and
read it over with an anxious face.
1t was from her lawyer, Mr.. Alli-
son, and it begged Of her, for rea-
sons Of the deepest Importance, to
meet him in her old home on the
evening Of the day then passing.
But the sentence that caused the
deepest pain to the loving heart
was the postscript of the letter:
81 have just heard Of Hosmer
Aliens death in Paris, last month"
"ITosmer Allen dead! Where
is my poor Ednn? a widow at
nineteenl Poor little onc!"
More to hear the tidings Of her
adopted child than from any other
reason, Mrs. Marchmout resolvad
to obey the lawyers summons.
The train from Barton that reached
lat six o'clock, carried her
upon her journey, and it was but a
short drive to her old home.
She was surprised, having heard
it was for sale, to find it brilliantly
lighted in every room, and to see
her footman opening the door.
She hurried to the parlors, warmed,
lighted, but empty. There she saw
n large, legal envelope upon the
contre.table. 1t was directed to
herself, and she opened it hastily.
A large folded paper fell out,
and tiny note. She opened the
first, and found q decd conveying
to her the house in which she
stood, and thirty thousand dollars
deposited in her name in the L.
Bank.
Utterly bewildered, she sank into
a chair, and for the first time spied
tho tiny note. 1t was directed in
familiar hand, and she opened it,
already guessing its contents.
And inside, in Edna's hand, she
read: $500,
"DEAR DEAR AUNT LIZZIE: Will
you accept tho accompanying
Christmas gift from
"Your loving child, EDNA"
edna! Is Edna here?" she
cried.
And in answer, the little figure oI
her adopted daughter came quick
" down the wide staircase.
II thought you would never call
mel" she cried, us she sprang into
the loving arms opened to her.
Edna! my little one"
81 may come home, may | r.ot?'
the Young widow asked, lifting hel