The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-09-11

night before poor Mrs. Morton died!
finished some copying that Minnie had
promised to send to the publishers that
day, and could not quit her mothers
pillow to complete.
"Poor, gentle Minnie! those days OF
trouble brought US much together. |
soon learnt all her little story. Obliged
to leave the pretty country vicarage at
ter her fathers death-coming to Lon
don, hoping to be able to earn a living
with her mother-w working hard, living
scantily-it is the old, old tale of hum
dreds of poor women, we'll born, well
educated, left alone in the world, with
out assistance, to fight their way as best
they can. The Mortons had no friends
in England Mr.. Morton's brother had
emigrated years ago and settled in Aus
tralia. Minnie had not heard of him
for long time, and did not know his
address. Mrs. Morton had been an or
phan. A cousin of her fathers was the
only person Minnie could apply to for
either advice or assistance; but he was
hard, cold man with large family,
very unlikely to do much. Neverthe-
less, when poor Mrs. Morton died, Min
ME did write to him, asking, not for pc
cuniary help, but for employment; per-
haps he could obtain her a situation as
governess or companion. His reply
came the day of the funeral. / had made
the simple arrangements, and now Min
ME and the kind-hearted landlady (who
had accompanied her on her sad Jour-
ney) had returned, / went upstairs to
see if could be of any further service.
found Minnie weeping bitterly, and
she at last showed me her Cousins let
ter.
"The writer was willing to advance
the sum for steerage passage to Sgd
ney, and trust to 'your gratitude and
sense of honesty to repay me out of your
first earnings Once arrived in the
colony, Minnie would doubtless be able
to discover traces of her uncle, or obtain
some employment. Anyhow, she
would be cheaply off her Cousins hands.
A Storage passage and to arrive
friendless in an unknown country-and
the man had young daughters of his
own! / looked at the fair, delicate girl.
Minnie had born up bravely for long
UllllC1 OuU u DCuSC Vi uCI ubUtI oCSOldbIOu
seemed to fall on her now.
"'Oh, what shall l do?' she cried
piteously. .. ~
81 took her cold little hand. do not
take a Storage passage to Australia
Stay in England and-marry me-
"Of course it was foolish business.
L always acknowledge that, though
noithoy. Of, re ouar fo,. 4. coo
ond afterward. 1t seems like a bad
moral to our imprudence that our mar
riage should have been such an excep-
tionally happy one; but there-so it was.
After all, we had seen great deal of
each other during those weeks of Mrs.
Morton's illness, and had grown more
intimately acquainted with each others
character and disposition in this inter-
course than we could have done during
whole London seasons parties. 1t
was seeing the deep unselfish affection
that existed between Minnie and her
mother that first opened my eyes to the
loneliness of my own lot. No one had
ever loved me after this manner. NY
uncle had conferred benefits ON me, but
never could recall hearing an endear-
ing word from his lips, nor observed him
to show symptom of affection for me.
Had he done so, might have acted
more openly toward him; but he had
never cared to win my confidence, and
| therefore had less scruple in withhold
ing it.
1--WE were married quietly about a
month after Mrs. Morton's death; Min
ME in her deep morning, our good land
lady our only wedding guest. 1t hap
pened to be the time of my usual annual
holiday, and took my bride to quiet
little watering place on the Normandy
coast, where we spent three weeks of
such peaceful happiness that I really
believe that l forgot all about my uncle
and his probable feelings when he heard
of my marriage.
81 did not despair; all my life hither-
to [ had been obedient to his wishes; he
had never paid bill for me, nor re-
ceived a complaint from an employer.
Surely he might overlook the one in
stance in which l had run counter to his
will, especially when he heard all the
circumstances and saw Minnie. I had
worked myself into quite a sanguine
lIdIuo VI ulnu, WHcH l. one udy received
a summons to Chaplain. Uncle John
rarely wrote letters, but he now sent a
brief line inviting, or rather requiring,
me to stay with him week or so, as he
was laid up with the govt, and'dull. /
could go to and fro to my work he only
wanted me to play cribbage in the eve
ming. t" Ht
az duly arrived at Chaplain, and dis
covered that the govt was affecting
Uncle John disagreeably. Never had I
seen him worse tempered. He had been
six months at Buxton, and the change
had done him no good; it had been an
expensive trip, and he was angry with
himself for having gone, and the doc
tors for having sent him. Then, as ILL
luck would have it, the son of a city ac-
quaintance had just made an imprudent
marriage against his fathers wishes,
and Uncle John was very full of it, and
expected me to join in his condemna-
tions. Now, as L was just as great a
sinner myself, could hardly in con-
science anathematize young Robinson,
and my lack of sympathy irritated my
uncle. I..n..
"The weary days dragged by. 1 had
been at Chaplain three weeks, and had
800 g. Il