The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1881-02-05

| FooEAS S~-SaO, y ~ co 4hAh ANOAA 40
means increase they had more time for
study, and the three boys and Grace
were intelligent, and with their ordin-
airy school advantages acquired thirst
for knowledge.
Six years passed. Upon one pretext
or other, Cara did not return home even
on visit. The distance was 100 gre at
for the busy farmer or his wife to take
time for trip to the city. So they con-
tented themselves with Clara's monthly
letters, by which they knew she was
well and happy.
She seemed, however, to take o in
terest in home matters. Her letters were
brief; merely duty letters, very con
strained and artificial. But when she
was eighteen, and had left school, her
father insisted that she should visit her
home.
1t was visit that gave no pleasure to
any one. The father looked with con
sternation at his affected, ine-lady
daughter. She turned with disgust
from the homely ways of her family.
Mrs. Donald, who was with her, afraid
of some outburst, hurried their dep.rt
ure.
"Thank heaven, that task is overt"
said this injudicious woman, with a
sigh of relief, as her carriage rolled from
the door O. the farmhouse. "How
coarse and vulgar your iather's manners
are, Cara! think they've grown worse
with time. You ought to be everlast-
ingly grateful, now that you can under
stand all I've rescued you from"
"Of course I am, auntie," Cara Ian
guidly assented. "I've been shocked
and disguised more than I can tell, by
all saw and heard at the farm. 1 do
| hope I'll never have to go back there. !"
"What do you think your father
asked me ?" Mrs. Donald said after q
| pause. He wanted to know if your
education had prepared you to make
your own living"
Cora colored angrily. She did not
like study, and her progress at schoo
had been very slow. Even her accom-
plishments were superficial, and she
was thorough in nothing but the art of
adjoining her pretty person.
"What did you tell him, auntie?" she
asked.
81 didn't know what to say, for
you've done nothing in the way of
study, you know. He would have
blamed me for that, although you know
that is net my fault, and would have
declared that he knew you would no
make progress in schooling. I merely
told him to wait patiently and we would
find that you would make support"
Cara laughed significantly
"Oh, of course, you know what /
mean. With your pretty face and nice
society manners, you ought to marry
well and soon. It's all nonsense not to
talk over these matters plainly. It's
your only chance. Cara; but when
you've landed your fish. you'd better not
take him to Goodale farm" and Mrs.
| Donald laughed CONTEMPORARY. He'd
| be disillusioned with a vengeance,
when be sees papa and the cubs at din
ner, and Grace's red arms shining
through soap suds. But she is hand
some enough, must say, though she's
so abrupt; and she's bright, too"
If any one had told Mrs. Donald that
she was coarser in mind and in speech,
and in all that makes the true woman
than the people of Goodale farm, she
would have called him mad.
A few months after this converse
ton Mrs. Donald was taken seriously
iii. From the first there was no hope OF
her recovery, and in state OF SEMI
consciousness she drifte6 into a world
for which she bad made no preparation.
Her son, worldly and avaricious
man, who had never approved of his
mothers whim OF adopting Cara, and
did not like the girl, sent her home as soon
as possible after the funeral ceremony.
"I've written for your father to come
for you, Cara" he said, within week
after the funeral. My wife will move
here, and your room will be needed. Oh
course, you can take the clothing my
mother gave you, though I'm afraid
yonr silks will be hardly suitable for
farm work. If were you, I'd dispose
of them"
He left the room, leaving the girl con
! vulsed with grief, less for the dead aunt
than for the luxurious home from which
she was thus summarily expelled. She
would have humbled herself, and borne
anything to be allowed to remain where
she was. When her father came for her
she had exhausted her tears, and had
fallen into state of sullen despair.
"Seems to me you're more sulky than
sorry, Cara" her father said, as they
logged on in the spring wagon a mode
of conveyance which had brought 8
blush of shame to the girls cheeks a:
she was lifted into it.
81 reckon you hate the thought of liv.
ing at home with your own people, after