Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1882-02-27
''For some reason she hates me, >

s'For your own good," said the
doctor.
'sIt is a mistaken idea," cried the
doctors wife.
CAT first it was. Since the thing
has gone on so long, nothing can now
be done" replied the doctor. ''It is
your mothers fixed determination
that you shall never see her. She
has no other child, and is not poor.
Her will is made in your favor. I
have no right to tell you more"
"But you?" / cried, turning to
Mrs. Sartain.
''Neither have 1 any right" said
the lady. ''But I say to you, find
out for yourself. 1t is your duty. [
know you better than your mother
kndAs you
/ looked at the doctor. He avoid
ed my glance, and said nothing.
But how was / to discover this
mother of mine, who hid herself from
me, yet who, they said, loved me?
By that Christmas-tide [ had fall
en- in love. The object of my admi-
ration was beautiful girl, of very
good family. | saw that she was
not displeased, and her father, a
wealthy client of our firm, did not OBJ
ject to my pretensions. In fact, we
were engaged, and my heart was full
of joy. Yet with it mingled the long
ing to find my mother and tell her of
my happiness. One day l told old
Aunt Betsey, who was counting my
cuffs and collars.
"Aunt Betsey," [ said, 'perhaps
l shall be married some day
''Lord bless usr' cried Aunt Bet
sey. "You seem such boy"
''It will not be at once," l said,
'but after | am well on in my pro-
fession. love her dearly. She is
Mr.. Charles Rushton's daughter
Miss Rushton p said Aunt Bet
sey. She folded her hard little hands
together, and stood looking at me.
''The very top of the ladder" she
said. ''Rich aud stylish and good
family, and so pretty. But you'll
have your things done in the family
then, and see no more of old Betsey." "
''Fll give you my collars while [
have one left, and all my wife's ruff
fles, too
II don't want hers said Betsey,
GROSSLY. ''Wish you joy, Mr.. Arthur
Varley. I'm sure it's fine match,
but her things l don't care for"
''Too much trouble, | suppose" /
said, as the door closed.
But l thought of my mother more
and more, and as that was the day on
which | drew my allowance, | went
up to the doctors house, intending to
make one more effort to move him to
tell me where to find my mother.
The doctor sat alone in his study.
An envelope lay before him. AS he
saw me, he drew it toward him, took
out a parcel of bank notes, and with
them a letter, which he at once re-
turned to the envelope and thrust it
into his vest pocket.
ga letter from my MOTHER" | said,
and looked at the vest.
1t was an ordinary black vest, but
the cut was lower than that of those
he usually wore.
He paid me my weekly allowance.
said that my mother sent her love
and had heard of my hopes and wish.
ed me joy. And after a few words
more l took leave of him, but not tC
90 directly home. / sought Mrs
Sartain at once.
s'Mrs. Sartain,' said, sits grow
inc very cold, and I noticed that the
doctor had low-cut vest on. Get i
off of him or he may have an attacl
of pneumonia. A gentleman | know
caught cold which resulted in con
sumption in that way. Take a higl
vest in to him and insist upon hi
wearing it at once"
''You good boy cried the doctor
wife; show thoughtful of YOU" Anc
away she ran. [ followed.
'Only to look at this cyclopedia
moment" I said, and buried my fac
in the book, while the lady urged tn
exchange of vests, and the gentlemal
protested finally saw the treasur
borne away, and followed. Goo
Mrs. Sartain, little did she CUES
that, as / walked behind her, pick
ed the pocket of the garment she car
ried under her arm.
l had the letter, and / could scarce
ly wait long enough to get to plac
of safety before opening it. At last
in a little ice cream saloon, / sat be
hind table shiny with oil cloth, an
plentifully adorned with the marks O
saucer bottoms, and opened the note
1t began thus:
Il have heard my boy is to b
married. God bless him, it is goo
match, but my heart aches. / almos
| wish | had not done what / did, bu
how could let the poor fellow bea
the shame of his fathers crime
7 And now I'd rather die than hav
7 him know, but my heart aches, m
r heart aches. No, no, no, say agai
never tell him. / am sick with sol
r row and fear. Write and tell m
: you'll never tell. Do you remembt
my number? 1t is twenty, Bloomin
2 Road. ELIZABETH VARLEY.'