The state rights democrat. [volume] (Albany, Linn County, Oregon) 1865-1900, 1882-05-19


rusty black lace. She paid the cabman,
and fingered for moment at the gate,
| looking TO the right and TO the left.
Then she advanced mp the straight, GEN.
ter walk toward the arbor. She was no.
body whom Josephine had ever seen be-
fore-a sour, common place. looking
person who eyed her with great ouri-
osity.
"This is Miss Knightley's houseS" she
asked abruptly, when she was within
speaking distance.
Eyes, madam, it is. answered Joseph
inc.
The lady came step nearer, and
looked ut her shrewdly. "And you are
Miss March, she said" and your por
trait is in - gallery. Have they been
good to you-t6ese people here9"
Josephine flushed hotly. ''They
have been my truest, kindest friends"
she said warmly. "But for whom"
''There, there. child" interrupted the
stranger, "don't go into heroics. /
want to see them. Take me to them."
Josephine obeyed. She led the
stranger to the prim little drawing
room, and bade maid send the Misses
Knightley to her immediately. Then
she returned to the arbor. Her heart
beat fast with uneasy fears. No, no, it
could not be; il was foolish 10 imagine
it. This was somebody from the coun-
try town, probably begging on behalf of
some institution.
Presently there was light step on the
gravel walk beside her. II was only
Miss Elizabeth; but her face was pale,
and her eyes fearful. Josephine's heart
stood still.
''Child," said the old lady tendeily,
'it is comfort TO think We shall not
suffer in losing you. We often felt
that you must long for your own
people. We think that they are found
now"
"That IS not-not my mother, gasped
Josephine.
NO" said Miss Elizabeth, "your
mother died when you were born. sweet
one, and that poor outcast of the gyp-
sizes camp stole you from the woman
with whom you were placed at nurse. It
was that pretty portrait which did il
all" cried she old lady, bursting into
tears. Your relations saw it, and
thought that nobody but their own lost
daughter could be so like your dead
mother. And so they found out who
you were, and all your story. This lady
Il
"And my father?" gasped Josephine
again.
SIS q learned and distinguished cd
gentleman with whom she lives in pro-
found retirement about 100 miles from
hole" returned Miss Elizabeth with
heroic truthfulness. "Come into the
house, child. and see yonr mothers min.
iature, and hear all your aunt has TO
say"
How different it was from Josephine's
dream. Yet her courage somewhat re-
vived at the thought of the learned old
gentleman and his scholarly seclusion.
Only her new aunt, her "real aunt"
damped it again. She was so ugly, so
business like. She did not want to lay
surreptitious claim TO Josephine's affec-
tions. She did not want 10 carry her OF.
A lawyer would wait on the Misses
Knightley and go into every detail of the
matter, before they would be expected to
resign their charge. Then she wonld re-
turn for her. Her name was Payne
Miss Selma Payne-and her. niece had
been christened after her.
$50 you're Selma Payne, too?" she
said, looking at Josephine March; land
expect you will be very thankful to
have q name that really belongs TO
you"
Josephine had just one more week in
the old Corner House. AMI q sad and try
ing week it was.
AS for the Misses Knightley. they
wept mneh IN secret. and though they
said little abont Miss Selma Payne, they
often wondered over Mr. Payne, and re-
marked to each other that brothers and
sisters were frequently very unlike, as If
that offered the most hopeful view OF
that unknown savant.
Then Josephine left them. Miss
Selma cut their farewells very short.
''You're not parting forever" she said;
81 come very near here every half year
about some money business, and some
times I'll bring her with me and leave
her for half an hour" And before the
Misses Knightley could protest against
such curtailed visits, the cab had driven
away.
Their railway journey brought them to
dismal little black village called Car
row. It stood mp anyhow round great
factory, which was pouring forth fierce
light from o hundred square windows.
That's the works, Selma" said her
aunt-''the chemical works for which
your father experiments and analyses"
"Oh, how uglyr cried the girl
which was perhaps ungracious.
''It brings rs bread, Selma" said the
aunt, 'and your father will expect you
to take an interest in his work and TO
help him, can tell you," she added;
Though he'll claim more from you for
his hobbies and his pets, and such use.
less trash"
"And so you're Selma" cried thin.
cracked voice, in the hall of low, dark
house into which they were ushered.
"Ah! you've got Maggie's eyes. Poor
Maggiel There, there, don't smother
me! We shall have plenty Of time to get
to know each other
And as that life began, 30 it went on
all through that awful winter. The old
lady and gentleman received no visitors,
they had dropped most of the amenities
Of life, and they were waited on by faith.
full servants after their own heart. Mr..
Payne's duties lay among dangerous
gases and acids; his recreation consisted
of the study and domestieation of living
snakes and nevis and frogs, and
the dissection of dead specimens
delights which he cordially invited his
daughter tc share. AS for Miss Selma,
she always gave grunt when letters
came from the Misses Kniehtley, and
when Josephine threw out hints that she
would like them to receive some sub
stantial yet graceful recognition of their
goodness TO her Miss Selma curtly re-
piled that she had no doubt they paid
themselves in one way and another.
AMI this was the fulfllment of the
n for xyIaS SCts 1.n1 1ft