The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-07-16
DIR. NOTIONS MOTHER.

cElmed one short, musical stroke
Through the half closed blinds shone
the silvery light of the fast-waning moon
the candle had burned low in it's socket
the log of wood had converted itself t.
ashes; but of all this DIR. Bernard Mol
ton saw or heard nothing, as he sat in his
Office chair, lost in thought. If the moon
had hidden the world goodnight, if the
candles feeble existence had entirely
ceased, and even the red glow in the
CRATE had died away, he would still have
seen only the picture of the woman's face
whom he loved.
1t was with him now as it had been
with him for hours past, since the mo-
ment he had placed his fate in Viola
Fane's keeping, and she had accepted it.
No wonder that it all seemed new and
strange to him-that he was needless OF
time and space. She was such delicate,
high-born lady, and he-ah, another Wis
sion came before him now. Not the
cheerful Office, with its luxurious ap-
pointments- might at least offer Vio-
let a home worthy of her-but the MEM
ory of the days when he had run, q little,
barefooted lad, about his mothers cot
tage, and she toiling for her only child
by which she had earned one by one the
village school, aid then to the great city
to learn the profession for which he
longed.
He had succeeded we'll and bravely,
beyond his most ambitious hopes but
the mother who had toiled for him,
where was she? Why was it that to-
night her old. wrinkled face drove even
Violet Fane's beauty from him?
True, he had no longer allowed her to
work; true, she sat at ease in her little
cottage, thinking of and praying for her
boy, who was SO good and generous to
her; but was it his fault that his patients
were so many and his hours SO precious
that he could find no time to gladden.
her old heart by a glimpse of him now
and then.
And now-now that he thought of Vio-
let as his wife-Violet, with her high
bred ways-Violet, whose every associa-
sphere-could it be that he was ashamed
of his mother?
The candle died out entirely; the
wood was white ashes now; the moon
had sunk to rest; the clock chimed two; /;
but red d-hot flush burned on DIR. Mol
toms cheek as he rose to find his way
getfulness in sleep.
For three long hours he sought the
boon in vain, and when at last it came to
him, and his tired eyes closed, how
could he but dream of those other eyes
Just awakening in the far-off home, which
somehow tonight had SO persistently
haunted his thoughts?
In the little cottage all was hustle, for
Mrs. Motion had determined to give her
boy q surprise, and the train for London
started very early.
Londoni 1t lay ten long hours away.
It would be almost nightfall when she ar
rived. How glad Bernard would now be
to see herl He had never proposed her
coming, because he had thought she
would not find the courage; as though
for his sake she would not do or dare
anything.
She was sorry now she had not had the
village dressmaker make up the black
silk he had sent her, but it looked SO
grand in its lnstrous folds that it seemed
q pity to touch it with the scissors, and
she would seem more natural like to Ber-
nard in her stiff dress.
How often she had pictured him in his
lonely home. She hoped he might be
out when she arrived, that she might
take off her bonnet, and, slipping on her
white cap, let him find her, with her
knitting in hand, quietly seated by the
ffreside waiting his return.
All the way in the train, when at last
she had got started on her journey, she
could hardly keep her happy thoughts to
herself; and more than one glanced into
the smiling old face, with a something
tugging at her heart-strings which al
most brought moisture into their eyes.
It was quite nightfall when the city
was reached. There had been some slight
delay on the road, and the old lady felt
a sinking at the brave heart which had
prompted her mission. However, she
succeeded in finding cabman willing
to take her to the address she held in her
band.
ssIt must be q mistake, or he has
brought me to the wrong place. Oh,
dear! what shall do?" she sighed, as
he drew rein before a large, handsome
house, presenting well-hghted front, in
one of the most aristocratic portions OF
Mayfair.
But cabby treasured her, and she soon
found herself, surrounded by boxes and
bundles, facing the formidable "gentle-
men" who opened the door.
Save for a suspicious shortness of a
certain portion of his attire, which
reached only to his knees, where they
were met with stiff leather leggings, the
worthy woman would have dropped him
. courtesy.
ssPast the doctors Office hours, ma'am, .
he said, in response to her feeble appeal.
q It's as much as my place is worth to
take in your card.
.sBut I have no card. He'll see me.
I'm-Im-"
But she did not finish the sentence
only stepped inside the door and stood
under the full glare of the light of the
hall lamp.
The man looked askance at the singu-
lar apparition. Her hat was crushed and
bent, her dress bore evidence of the dust
of travel, and in her hand was huge
band-box, containing the hat which was
to astonish the Londoners.
Indeed, ma'am" the man began,
but the old lady walked steadily on to
the door, beneath whose threshold she
deserted stream of light.
The hot flush had by this time burned
ont of DIR. Motions cheek. The morn
ing's dawn had dissipated the foolish
fancies of the night. His duties for the
dav were over and he was free to seek