The banner-enterprise., 1883-06-14
FAITH REWARDED.
CHApTEI. I.

Silhl
"You will be back as soon as you
can, Edith? You know how | dislike
being left alone" Mrs. Bertram
spoke fretfully, and looked as if she
rather resented her daughters going
out at all. "And you will think over
what | have said to you about DR..
Ashby? You know, my dear, some
one must make sacrifice; Pm sure
Tn willing to do anything, but what
Is there helpless invalid can do? If
you would only look at the matter
from u reasonable point of view you
would not hesitate. Just think of
Blanche and Eva, what is to become of
those poor, darling ch ldren?"
Edith sighed deeply; she had been
thinking of the children all the morn
ing while teaching them their lessons
and correcting their exercises, trying
to coax Bee to practice, and Eva to
get through her French verbs, think
ing what a comfort it would be if
they could both be sent off to good
school, where they would be taught
obedience; for though she had all the
trouble, she had not the slightest con-
troll over them.
1t only seemed like playing at les
sons to have Edith for governess,
while to her il was weary, wearing
work, added to all her other anXieties
and worries For everything seemed
to fall on Edith's shoulders. Mrs.
Bertram was a fretful, rather selfish
person, who suffered from nervous
headaches, and on the strength of
them took very little interest in the
affairs of her small and straitened
household, except to perpetually find
fault, and grumble at the hard fate
that had placed her in such circum-
stances.
She was pretty woman, with soft
fair hair and violet eyes, and useless
little white hands and though Edith
Bertram felt it keenly when her father
brought home young wife to the
Dingle, she did not wonder when she
looked at the pretty clinging girl who
looked little older than herself, and
seemedl so sweet, shy and amiable.
Edith was fifteen, and her step-mother
twenty-five, though she did not look
nearly so old. And just at first, things
went on smoothly enough at the Dingle.
Mrs. Bertram made no changes, and
Edith was still housekeeper, and took
care of her father as she had done for
five years, ever since her own mother
had died. But after a few months the
sweetness and shyness rubbed off, and
Mrs. Bertram exhibited Il sharpness of
temper and petulance of manner that
was anything but pleasant. The
doctor, amiable and easy-tempered to
a fault, gave in to her in everything.
First she had Edith's drawing-master
sent away, as she thought it mere
waste of time and money; then the
music-toacher was dismissed on the
plea that, as Edith was not going to
be a musical governess, it was absurd
to keep on learning as she played quite
well enough already. Then Mrs.
Bertram began to find fault with Jack
Clifford, the doctors assistant, and
made it so unpleasant for him that he
declared one day he could not stand it
any longer.
"Pve made up my mind to go to the
Cape, Edith, to make my fortune" he
said, and she could only bid him good
bye, with tear-dimmed eyes and fall
tering voice. She could not ask him
to stay, for it did not sem like home
at the Dingle, and all her authority
was gone.
"But I'll come back, Edith" Jack
added, holding both her hands. "Tll
return to you. Will you trust me,
darling, and waltz
"Yes, Jack. | WILL" she replied,
simply. And the next day he left with
formal farewell Only ECith knew
what a disappointment it was to Jack,
and how all his hopes were blighted
and his plans altered. The doctor had
promised to make him his partner, and
that one day he should succeed him;
but for some inexplicable reason he
had been cold and distant of late, and
1t seemed positive relief when Jack
was gone.
Six months after the bank in which
DIR. Bertram had deposited the savings
of his whole life, and Edith's fortune
inherited from her mother, faile1 sud-
denly-everything was lost, and the
doctor never recovered the shock of it.
elf | only had Jack to stand byme
I might have borne it" he said, sadly;
che would have been son to me in
my adversty.'
But Jack was gone, none knew
whittier and Mrs. Bertram began to
dimly realize that she had done fool
fish thing in driving him away, for the
doctor grew every day more feeble,
and at length was forced to sell his
practice and house, and move into a
tiny cottage on the outskirts Of the
village, where, after few months, he
died of broken heart. The money he
had received for his practice and the
Dingle, and an insurance on his life,
was all he had TO leave his wife and
children, and invested in the most care
full way. it brought them in less than
hundred year.
Poor Edith found it hard work to
make both ends of suc1 a narrow in
come meet, and after a few months
abe found it absolutely necessary to do
something to earn more money. She
could not 60 away as a governess-