The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-11-29

whole!" was Mr.. Wilkinson's mental COM
ment. Suppose you and I 60 for
walkP" be- 4dded, aloud.
IA W. lk?" Mile said, in tone OF
surprise.
Eyes, have friend or two I should
like to have You seo. When we como.
back will tell you Why I dislike Cyril
Ormsby, IT," be added mentally, you
have not already fopnd out"
It was not exactly such walk % one
would have mapped ont for Q gentle
mans invitation to young, beautiful
girl; bat Mile followed, OF course,
leaning upon the arm Of her guardian,
wondering . little, but never hesitating,
past the respectable portion Of the city,
10 . quarter known as the Factory
Row." place where Mr.. Wilkinson had
never before allowed his ward to 60; for
there were apt to be fevers and conta-
geous diseases lurking there. 1t lay low
and was unhealthy, and the houses were
Of the meanest description.
"For q noble philanthropist, partly
owning these factories and this quarter,
Mr.. Ormsby seems neglectful," said Mr..
Wilkinson, dryly. II have an interest
in the factories. 90 you are aware, but
do not own one of these wretched houses.
They are all Cyril Ormsby's."
But" Mile said. eagerly, "these
people will not let him benefit them.
They use his charity for drink; they
abuse any privilege be gives them, till
ne is discouraged in his efforts to do
them any good"
"Oh! step in here"
It was poor place, scantily furnished
and cheerless. Upon q cot bed Q woman
lay in the last stages of consumption.
She looked up eagerly to Mr.. Wilkin-
| son.
&c! hope you are BETTER" he said,
kindly.
"No; shall never be better. II I
may only die in peace, It is all I ask"
''Mr. Ormsby will not disturb you
now?"
"Jennie has gone to him. Yesterday
he sent word that if the rent was not
ready to-day at twelve, out we must go.
I've paid it regularly for five years, hut
he don't think of that. All Jennie's
made the last month she has had to pay
for fire and wood. She's but fifteen and
her pay is small" !.
"What do you we Cyril Ormsby?"
Thirty shillings'"
put you ont in the street to die?"
"He says the workhouse is the place
for paupers."
At this moment slim, pale girl of
fifteen came in, crying bitterly.
'Mr. Wilkinson was out, she began,
and then seeing her visitors, she cried.
eagerly, "Oh, Mr.. Wilkinson. you will
not let mother be PIT out in the street.
~ vus1I
only wait until she is better, and can
get my full time to work."
"Have you seen Mr.. Ormsby to day?"
the old gentleman asked.
Eyes, sir. He said he had no time to
hear any whining. The agent will be
here at twelve, and il the money is not
paid he viii put us 81"
MAY n" whispered Mile.
"Just as you please, my dear. Per-
haps this dying woman or child will
drink up your charity"
Hush, hush"
$50 tenderly, go delicately Mile gave
her charity that there was only deepest
gratitude awakened without the CALLING
sense of obligation. She left more than
sufficient for some weeks, and promised
to send delicacies for the invalid.
NO WOEu VI nCAo0AA PoSoost ooA AAPc
until they were once more in the narrow
street.
"Oh, Uncle Mare" she said, "can it
be true that he is so hard, 30 false to
me?"
"Wait." was the brief reply.
They went into the wide courtyard in
whose space stood the four great fac
tories. the joint property of Marcus
Wilkinson and Cyril Ormeby, long be-
fore divided by the entirely opposite
management OF these two into two dis
tinct departments-one entirely under
the control Of the elder. the other of the
younger man.
wilkinson 3 absurd soft heartedness."
- Cyril mentally characterized il, had
made this division absolutely necessary.
But it Was not into his own kindly
governed. we'll ordered departments that
Marcus WHkinson led his ward. He
turned into small room, where . pale
man was busily writing. and ct the same
time overlooking . long room, whore
about seventy girls we're ct work before
busily whirling machinery.
GOOD morning, Watkins" the old
gentleman said, II was in hopes that
you we're taking . holiday"
THANK you, sir" was the reply in .
detected tone. II can't we'll quit work,
mir. There's the wife and nix little ones.
ron sce."
"Have you told Mr.. Otmsby the
doctor says your life depends upon few