The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1880-09-16

| morning III tne early spring tnere nut
tered from the door in the soft, balmy
breeze the heavy black Grape, which
told the sad news that death had entered
the little cottage and left Harry and
Ethel motherless. but not without II
friend; some one, whom we aftefward
learned was no other than Eugene En-
erson, ever on hand with some kind, deli
cate attention for the invalid, had writ
ten to the brother, and at the funeral
the little mourners were led by a tail,
stately-looking gentleman who, it was
whispered, was their rich uncle, come to
take them away, which proved true.
The next morning, our childish hearts
almost bursting with grief, Ethel and l
said our good-bys over and over again
ere the great numbering old stage coach
carried her away to be the daughter of
her rich uncle, who expressed his mten-
ton of adopting both the children, he
being childless and entirely alone in the
world.
Years glided by and an occasional let
ter from Ethel descriptive of the new
life, speaking at first kindly, and then
aflectionately, of the uncle. whom she
soon learned to love and who, she assured
us, through unselfsh kindness and ailec-
ton, was endeavoring to make amends
to the children for neglect of the par
ents.
Since that bright spring day when I
babe Ethel good-by had rolled twelve
years, when one morning q letter from
Ethel was placed in my hand--still
Ethel Raymond, but instead Of the
lovely child of poverty brilliant, beau.
tiful and accomplished woman, an heir
ess and the pet of society. Just having
returned from Europe, she had written
to me to come to her. 1t was an aticc-
tionate, merry letter, descriptive OF the
gayeties of society life, containing full
account of the last conquest, ETC., and
finally ending up with an imperative de-
mand for my presence at her home
Thanksgiving, saying her uncle had
given her full liberty to invite what
guests she chose for that day, (which will
be yourself, uncle, brother Harry and
myself. You see I want only those
whom l love for my first Thanks
giving at home after 50 long an absence
kind of a family reunion, You know
And now, dearest" she added, "mlesS
you wish to entail lifelong misery up
on your old friend you must be sure to
come"
/ handed the letter over to mamma
with "A smile, who, after reading it
through, quietly remarked, "WelI, my
dear, / think you can 60"
ooh, mamma |" I cried, ego when
| haven't thing fit to wear" For the
same years that had brought wealth and
luxury to Ethel Raymond had brought
poverty to me.
My dear, / think you speak rather
sweepingly, do you not? 1t seems to
me that you have very nice black
cashmere which will do very well for
street and church wear. know. of course.
that your wardrobe is not what young
lady would wish on entering fash
ionable society, but, my dear, it is all
you have; and, you know, II lady will
appear lady under all circumstances.
Go, child, and enjoy all you can.
You remember Ethel once spent II
Thanksgiving with you under similar
circumstances, only you We're children
then :" and presume she has not forgot
ten 1t, and a week or two later found me
domiciled with my friend. Oh. the hap
py days lived over again within the
sacred precincts of our own room! 1t
was here, the morning Of that memoir
able Thanksgiving, that we had both
suddenly subsidized into silence after one
of our extended conversations. Ethel,
seated upon low ottoman, Just opposite
my favorite perch on the side Of the bed,
was busily engaged in nndoing the long
heavy braids of her hair, which. when
loosened, fell in great golden waves about
her shoulders. Suddenly turning, she
merrily cried: "Why those piercing
orbs of midnight darkness fixed upon,
this innocent countenancc, as If to pierce
the very depth of my inmost soul %
"Don't be tragic, dear, was only occu-
pied with my own thoughts, ] inter-
rupted.
"A penny for your thoughts, then"
"Well, my dear, | was just wonder
| llIp IOW DOoh tllib ult'llt VI
yours, Col. Blackwell, of the million and
mustache, is to claim that little, white
hand; the symptoms are quite alarming
and it is time the case was reported"
"Marry Col. Blackwell, is that what
you mean? That will never he. No,
never she added, with little SILVER. |
presume you have discoveredt the Colonies
standing with my uncle, who has been
anxious for years for an alliance be-
tween the two families. The Black
wells, You know, are a very aristocrutic
and wealthy family. The Colonel is
handsome, intelligent, good, everything
in fact that the world would unanimously
vote good match; but, my dear, she
added, with something of bitter smile,
am 50 foolish as to think that there is
another requisite to happiness which the
world usually leaves out of consideration,
and that is love, and as | possess none
of that to my happiness. necessary
commodity my uncle's ambition must
be sacrificed and my expectant friends
disappointed" ,
"Well, Ethel, pray inform us what
kind of man is to succeed, when the
elegant, accomplished and fascinating
Colonel fails.
"Well. / am sure | don't know.
sometimes think that necessary little OF
gan called the heart was left entirely out
Of my composition, and, consequently;
doubt capability of any unusual
amount of affection; and, under the cir
crmstances. it were better for Ethel
RAYMOND to tread life's pathway alone
than TO be an unloving wife, handsome
husband and elegant establishment to
the contrary. Do you know l some
times thiuk." she added, musingly
chad the gentle voice and tender smile
of Eugene Emerson, our boy teacher
been known to me in maturer years
things might have
"Ah, indeed" interrupted, with {
ia Ill 10 moi