The Portland daily press., 1882-01-21

for our characters in the town, and he had
| heard what our clergyman could say for US.
| Our only relations had emigrated to Austria
| liza, and were not doing well there. My
| mothers death would leave me, so far as
| relatives were concerned, literally alone IN
! the world. "Give this girl first-rate edu-
| cation" said our elderly customer, sitting
| at eur tea-table in the back parlor, land
she will do. If you will send her to school,
ma am, I'll pay for her education" My
poor mother began to cry at the prospect OF
| parting with me. The old gentlaman said,
1sThink of it," and got up to go. He gave
| me his card as I opened the shop door for
| him. eff you find yourself in trouble" he
| whispered, so that my mother could not hear
him, 'tbe wise child, and write and tell me
| of it," looked at the card. Our kind
hearted customer was no less person than
| Sir Gerard Royland, of Garrum Park, Sussex
with landed property in our county as
| WELL He had made himself Through the
| rector no doubt) far better acquainted than
was with the true state of my mothers
health. In four months from the memoir
able day when the great man had taken tea
with us, my time had come to be alone in
l the world. have no courage to dwell on
| it, my spirits sink, even at this distance of
time, when / think of myself in those days.
The good rector helped me with his advice
Il wrote to Sir Gerard Royland
A change had come over his life as we'll
as mine in the interval since we had met.
| Sir Gerard had married for the second
| time-and, what was more foolish still, per-
| haps, at his age, had married a young wo-
| man She was said to be consumptive, and
| of jealous temper as well. Sir Gerard's
only child by his first wife, son and heir,
was so angry at his fathers second marriage,
| that he left the house. The landed property
| being entailed, Sir Gerard could only express
his sense of his sons conduct by making a
new will, which left all his property in
money to his young wife.
| These particulars l gathered from the
| steward, who was expressly sent to visit me
| at Sandwich.
"Sir Gerard never makes promise with
out keeping it," this gentleman informed
me. 81 am directed to take you to a first
| rate ladies' school in the neighborhood of
| London, and to make all the necessary ar
| rangements for your remaining there until
| you are eighteen years of age. Any written
/ communications in the future are to pass, if
| you please, through the hands of the rector
| of Sandwich. The delicate health of the
| new Lady Royland makes it only too likely
/ that the lives of her husband and herself
| will be passed, for the most part, in milder
| climate than the climate of England. 1 am
| instructed 10 say ILLS, anu W convey W yOu
| Sir Gerard's best wishes"
| By the rector's advice, / accepted the
| position offered to me in this unpeasantly
formal manner-concluding (quite correctly,
| as | afterward discovered) that / was indebt-
/ ed to Lady Royland for the arrangement
which personally separated me from my
| benefactor. Her husbands kindness and
my gratitude, meeting on the neutral ground
| of Garrum Park, were objects of conjugal
| <o FL, 10 LODI oh rOf
| left a sincerely grateful letter to be for
warded to Sir Gerard; and, escorted by the
steward, / went to school-being then just
| fourteen years old.
/ know am fool. Never mind. There
| is some pride in me, though I am only
small shopkeeper's daughter. My new life
had its trials-my pride held me up.
For the four years during which remain
I ed at the school. my poor welfare might be
subject Of inquiry to the rector, and some
times even to the steward-never to Sir Ger
ard himself. His Winters were no doubt
| passed abroad; but in the Summer time he
| and Lady Royland were at home again.
| Not even for day or two in the holiday
| time was there pity enough felt for my lone
| ly position to ask me to be the guest Of the
housekeeper II expected nothing more) at
have felt it bitterly. My pride said to me,
DO justice to yourself worked so hard,
| I behaved so well, that the mistress of the
| school wrote to Sir Gerard to tell him how
| thoroughly had deserved the kindness that
| lie had shown to me. No answer was re-
ceived. (Oh, Lady Royland! No change
| varied the monotony of my life-except when
one of my schoolgirl friends sometimes took
me home with her for few days at vacation
time Never mind. Ny pride held me up.
| As the last half-year of my time at school
approached, began to consider the serious
| question of my future life.
OF course, I could have lived on my eighty
pounds year; but what lonely, barren ex-
| istence it promised to be!-unless somebody
married me; and where, if you please, was 1
to find him? My education had thoroughly
fitted me to be governess Why not try
my fortune and see little of the world in
that way? Even if fell among ili-condi-
toned people, could be independent of
them, and retire on my income.
The rector, visiting London, came to see
me. He not only approved of my idea-he
offered me means of carrying it out.
worthy family, recently settled at Sandwich,
were in want of a governess. The head of
the household was partner in business 1.-THE
exact nature of which it is needless to men
tion) having ssbranches'' out of London.
He had become superintendent of new
''branch tried as a promising comercial
experiment, under special circumstances,
at Sandwich. The idea of returning to my
native place pleased me-dull as the place
was to others. I accepted the situation.
When the stewards usual half-yearly
letter arrived soon afterward, inquiring
what plans had formed on leaving school,
and what he could do to help them, acting
on behalf of Sir Gerard, delicious tingling
filled me from head to foot when l thought
of my own independence 1t was not in
gratitude toward my benefactor; it was only
my little private triumph over Lady Roy
land. Oh, my sisters of the sex, can you
not understand and forgive me?
So to Sandwich I returned; and there, for
three years, I remained with the kindest
people who ever breathed the breath of life.
Under their roof was still living when /
met with my lost gentleman in the street.
All me! the end of that quiet, pleasant life
was near. When lightly spoke to the odd
stranger of the expiring trade of the town,
never suspected that my employers trade
was expiring too. The speculation had
turued out to be losing one; and all his
savings had been embarked in it. He could
no longer remain at Sandwich, or afford to
keep governess. His wife broke the sad
news to me. was so fond of the children,
l proposed to her to give up my salary.
Her husband refused even to consider the
proposal. 1t was the old story of poor hui
manity over again. We crie1, we kissed,
we parted.
What was to do next?-write to Sir Ger
ard?
had already written, soon after my re
turn to Sandwich; breaking through the
regulations by directly add essng Sir Ger
ard. l expressed my grateful sense of his
generosity to poor girl who had no family
claim on him; and promised to make the
one return in my power by trying TO be
worthy of the interest that he had taken in
me. The letter was written without any al
10y of mental reserve. My new life as a
governess was such happy one, that had
forgotten my paltry bitterness of feeling
against Lady Royland.
1t was a relief to think of this change for
the better, when the secretary at Garrum
Park informed me that he had forwarded
my letters to Sir Gerard, then at Madeira
with his sick wife. She was slowly and
steadily wasting away in a decline.
Before another year had passed, Sir Gerard
was left widower for the second time,
with nc child to console him under his loss.
No answer came TO my grateful letter. l |
should have been unreasonable indeed if 1 |
had expected the bereaved husband to re-
member me in his grief and loneliness.