The Penn's Grove record., 1883-08-25

The mans Land with the knife tell 10
his side.
Ellis hoy, Herbert, is III and dying"
[ repeated, " and he calls for his father;
and the doctor says if he does not see
him he cannot possibly live"
shall never forget the look of agony
that came in the place Of the anger to
tie dark face of Herbert's father.
my by dying, aud | hereln
lie had been beside himself with
anger, but the shock of my words sober
ed him, and taking my hand he led me
from the place. Once out in the street
! tried TO leave him, but he held me
tightly.
eff my boy lives it will be you who
saved him." lie said "you shall come
with mp."
Saca Il pathetic scene it Was when
the mother, hearing footsteps, came to
the door and saw her husband. 1 can
| not think of ii now without tears.
A couple of homs later the doctor
declared the danger past the boy had
| seen his father, and his delirium
auieted, had sunk into slumber.
So it was that l, Polite Evans, saved
two lives.
Mr.. st. John, true TO his word, never
from that time neglected his family
and HeIbeft grew and thrived from his
childhood (which they told me had al
ways been d~elicatel into as stalwart a
lad as ever gladdeLed a parents heat.
Twelve years have passed since then,
and | am Polite Evans no longer. But
| viii not anticipate.
That night was the turning point OF
my life.
"You must stay with us, my child, ?"
| MIS-. st. John said. "Henceforth your
home is in this house, which but for
yoa would be desolate indeed. Lean
never repay to you the benefits you have
given to me, but all that is in my power
[ shall do. Your real name is Mary,
you tell me. | had a sister Mary once,
and | love the name. Mary, will you
be willin g to let me do what can to
make you a happy, useful woman 7"
| was at once sent to school. OF
course / had much to unlearn as well
as to learn, but hard work ac~complishes
wonders and two years ago | received
kindly words from my teachers that
brought a thrill of pride to my breast,
for | felt that l could at last reach the
ultimatum of my longing, and go forth
into The world and work for myself and
be independent.
One day when | thought we were en-.
tirely alone-Mrs. st. John and myself
in her boudoir, | preached, the sub
ject for the first time.
was little prepared for the effect Of
my words. Iknew that she loved me,
though not till then how much. But
though she pleaded, yet | was firm, foi
/ had discovered something within my
self that forced me to do SO. But, oh
il was hard indeed to resist those ten
der, earnest tones.
MARY, do you know that to see yot
leave my roof would break my heart
You do not speak. Is there, then, ne
way in which L can induce you to give
up this idea that has gained such aholc
over your mind p
"Of course there is" cried a ricf
voice at tiie door that brought the bloot
in "a torrent from my heart to my cheeks
as pushing aside the curtains, Herbert
entered.
His eyes met mine, and fell. A joy
Gus light sprang into his handsome fact
that face that ! had long known ]
cared for with more than a sisters
affection.
TASK her to stay as your daughter,
mother.n
AS | stood there blushing crimson, 3
soft hand took mine.
s'Can it be possible, Mary, that you
care for my son ? l had not dared t
hope for this. : knew that Herbert
loved you, but never dreamed you haf
a thought for him that was not merely
sisterly." lAh, my short sighted bene
f~actress y "Will you indeed stay
Mary, as my daughter"
"And as my wife z" another voice
added, while a strong young arm en-
folded me.
And l stayed, and here / still am, M
longer Mary Evans, but dignifed Mrs
Herbert st. John. Herbert often call
me s'Polly," for which / do not chid'
him, for / love to hear my old nam
spoken in his tender tones, though in
deed, perhaps, it might be as well t.
say that everything is music to me tina
comes from his lips.
Wanted to be Certain.