Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1881-03-30

a strange enough note, presuming
and inexplicable. She dropped 1T,
and looked at the messenger, straight,
well formed boy, with slender hands
and feet. His hair was light, and
curlod loosely like other hair she had
seen before, his large violet eyes
she had seen before, his mouth, the
dimple in his chin, the turn OF his
head
She gazed at him moment, like
one in trance, then started.
Heavens, boy! what is your
name Z" she cried. "What are you e
MY name is Phil Phillips" he an
swered, with u smile that went to the
heart, with voice that set her
trembling. Il don't know who | am.
l was picked up at sea when | was
three years Old"
But this man, John Slado, says he
knew you at that time" she exclaim-
ed, starting up. "And he has been
away only year"
"Yes,' said the boy, looking with
wonder to see the lady so agitated |;
He came to see me in America, and
took me to Calcutta with him, and he
has been good to me. He told me
that my father was dead, but my
mother was alive, and that my name
was Philip, but would not tell me
what else. He said that you knew
who my mother is. | want to find my
mother" the boy added, TREMENDOUSLY.
Il don't like going about the world
so"
What explanation could be made she
knew not. But, with mothers in
tuition, she knew her long lost child.
She clasped him in her arms. She
kissed and questioned him she lis
tened to n recital of all his recollec-
tons, and with every word her as
surance grew stronger. His faint re-
collections of the great house, the
pony carriage, of many a little in
cident which she herself recalled
all were confirmation strong as proof
of holy writ.
The next morning Mr.. Vernon call
ed to see Mrs. Beaufort, and before
he had been with her fifteen minutes
they were engaged.
sob, my dearest, my most true and
disinterested friend" she suddenly
broke forth, Il have such news to tell
you; can keep it no longer. Say
once again that you love and choose
me, poor and alone"
She leaned on his arm, and looked
with beautiful, fearful eyes into his
face.
81 choose you so, my love-" he said,
II want nothing with you"
She leaned moment on his should
er then gently disengaging herself
from his embrace, and going to the
door of an inner room, opened it, and
beckoned to some one there.
A boy seven or eight years OF age
ran to catch and kiss her hand. She
led him to the vicar.
at is my little Philip come back
from the Dead" she said, "and | ask
you to leave the vicarage for the
manor"
No matter about the proofs. They
were not wanting, and they were con-
vincing. The Beauforts would own
to nothing-they only gave up and
went out of the usurped Inheritance.
But the servant, John Slade, charged
the proprietor of the manor with
having withheld from Mrs. Beaufort
the advertisement which described the
child that had been picked up at sea.
ave did not believe that it was the
child" they said, "and we thought it
would only agitate Alice unnecessar-
ily."
1t was lame excuse, but the best
they had.
So Mrs. Beaufort went back to the
great house, proudly leading her son,
and all the people bowed down to her
and congratulated her, of course
And when the clergyman, Mr.. YER
non, left the parsonage to marry her,
more than one noble gentleman cursed
his own stupidity in not having fallen
in love with the widow while there
was q chance.