The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1882-06-09
''.n1I,t 81
tie dsiiSsss and :iisnes q

Owe him sOrrowfully bent Aubrey Nor.
timer, the friend and companion OF many
Eyeap Of delightful wanderinK through
ktAe old world - ~
Mortimer was by ten years the young.
or Of the two. He was wealthy and ele-
gant-a fsvorite In society. Fortune
seemed ever TO smile on him.
Craven. on the contrary, wa poor-a
ltfesyptrr Nth : kood deal ijoit slsnt
u hsllscks6l snsfsy for tks hard vol
:Hhich would have Insured him profita-
~ thovosskly sdssatsd. sesss-
able, fascIha6hg gentleman. Z
Wien asnerS boy b had married; q
yook iater hid Rjrlswife had bresthed her
last, leaving him . father and . widow
or 1t tho age Of twenty.
He never married again. cord nj >
The child. > little girl, was placed in
charge Of . nurse until she attained q
suitahlQR nge to beEeent to schopl There
were yeAfs durinG Which ~ lid noteee
her fsther. Then came 4 letter to Che
young girl which thrilled her with de-
lightful anticipation. She was to Join
the father whose face was almost nm
known 20 her, but whose charming let
tiers had been the one Joy of her board
ing-schooll life. She was to leave school,
leave London, and cross the Channel to
the old town where her father was wait
ing to welcome her.
This letter preceded q call from Au-
brey Mortimer, who, being in England,
was TO escort her to her father.
The first time that he saw Cecil era
ven he thought her q shy little school
girl, with big hazel eyes, q quantity Of
brown hair, and a brown complexion to
match.
"Homely little thing" he thought;
"and frightened half to death, poor
babyr'
And thereupon, following the impulse
of his chivalrous heart, he exercised ev-
cry power which his worldly experience
had given him to make her long ocean
voyage a pleasant one; and she, in her
gratitude for his kindness and courtesy,
Showed herself to be a very delightful
and sensible little companion. So that
when Mortimer handed Cecil Craven
over to her father, he had grown to have
a sort of b%rotherly regard for 'her, while
she had put, him upon awhile. pedestal,
and was prepared, after her passionate,
girlish fashion, to worship him as m
thing little less than godlike.g a.
AAll of which-had Mortime r1llnownit
--wonld have touched and shamed him
a GOOD deal. ~ @Gk
But he did not know il. No one would
have guessed at the strength and warmth
and passion of little Cecil's heart.
f Che Ea,Nf bar cao,.ot eb,,t a1osa f.o,1
the world. She was happy; il twas hap
piness to be so constantly with the two
of all others whom she loved-her faith
er and Mortimer. She kept the rooms
neat and bright wherever they were;
she sewed on her fathers buttons; she
mended Mortimer gloves in secret, shy
delight; she got up delicious little lunches
for the two men, and took a hand at
cards with them, or made one of their
jolly fishing or mountain parties.
SO a year passed until Cecil was nine
teen, then q mortal illness overlook
Lewis Craven, and dragged him down
TO his death. The merry, careless life
of Bohemianism was ended, and what
would become of Cecil--poorlittle Cecil,
whose sole relative was the dying father
who had saved not a penny for the grip
Something Ike this burst in an agonised
moan nom Craven's lips as he felt the
ley hand Of death close about his heart.
For a moment Mortimer thought rap
idly. 3eHe had cherished q strong and
tender friendshipfor C~raven-the friend
ship of a man, who, despite his elegant,
care-free existence, was ready to lay
down that existence for his friend, if
need be. Cecil was a dear little thing
would make a quiet wife. He had not
thought o marrying, yet he would mar
ry Cecil for her fathers sake.
''She shall be my wife, if she will have
me- he said to Craven; 81 give you my
word of honor, no harm or sorrow shall
come to her."
''God in heaven bless your sighed
Craven, and as a faint, satisfied smile
lit his pallid features, the soul wentforth
into eternity.
After the funeral, while Cecil, in her
coarse black garments, was counting
drearily enough the contents of her mod
est purse, Aubrey Mortimer came to
her.
Her lip quivered at the sight of him
he was so interviewer with her life, her
Joy, her bereavement.
He drew the poor little purse away
from the slim brown fingers. and seating
her with gentle authority in the one
easy-chair the room contained, he said:
"Cecil, child, your loneliness must ex-
cuse me for speaking to you of love at
such a time. You need q protector,
poor child. 1t was your fathers wish
you should become my WIFE"
.'And yoursP'' she lqueried, timidly.
''And mine.p .
''Mr. Mortimer" raising two wistful,
tear-filled eyes to his face, do you love
For an instant he was struck dumb.
The handsome lips which framed so
in society smooth and charming
speeches, were mute before little Cecil.
Suddenly he knelt upon a hassock be-
side her chair, and framed the sad girl
lace in his strong hands.
Little girl" he said, II love no wom-
IN better-you believe me, don't youp
| am not a very good man. / have lived
an idle life, and had many rowing fam