The Penn's Grove record., 1884-12-13
MY STEP-SON.

MY sTEP-sON.
had been married Just a year when
my life experienced its first great trou-
ble-a trouble self increased by the will
ful pride and rebellion with which my
headstrong girlhood met it.
Hitherto my path had been particu-
larry sunny. The only child of wealthy
and indulgent parents, | became en-
gagged at eighteen years old to Kendall
Darcy, a rising barrlster, some years
my senior, whom l loved with a warmth
only equalled by my satisfaction when
l found that the affection was mutual.
My father warned him that such a
spoilt child would prove troublesome
but Kendall had no fears on that point,
and as yet our welded life had cast lit
tie enough of shadow upon us.
Now and then L did indeed notice
upon my husbands face q grave, preoc-
cupied expression that l failed TO I'M
derstand, but | knew he was ~intrusted
with important issues, and, loving his
profession as be did, it was no wonder
tlat his mind should entertain its con-
Germs even when he rested from its du-
lies in his beautiful home at South Ken
sington. l guessed not that scenes in
his past life were the phantoms so fire.
quently arising before him, haunting
him even III his present happiness, un-
suspected by his joyous girl-wife.
/ was now about twenty years old, and
happier than ever, for a beautiful infant
boy had crept into III life and love.
All, what marvellous hopes clustered
round the rose-pink bereeamaette wherein
reposed what the papers announced as
our s'son and heir ~ Kendall used 10
pinch my cheeks, calling us a couple OF
babies, when he watched us together
but knew he was as proud of u little
Frank as myself, though his smile was
so quiet and his looks were so subdued
8 he held the wee dimpled hand In his
own.
Never shall l forget the morning when
We became aware that baby was not the
''son and heir"-that Kendall had a liv
ing son, and that l was a step-mother.
We were breakfasting together In ouT
~favorlte room, and the flowers were nod.
ding IN at us through the open windows,
whilst the canaries sang their sweetest,
when my husband received a black-bor-
dered letter that turned his face CHASTITY
white as he perused it. l hurried to
get him brandy, fearing he was going
to faint. / guessed that something was
smiss in his banking or professional af-
fairs. but l could not annoy him with
questions, and silently | knelt beside
MIN, putting my arms around him.
The story was told by-and-by, quickly
and abruptly but it was very long ere
/ realized the truth-that | vas a Sec
ond wire. In the early days of our &C
q~uaintance Kendall had heard me speak
d~isparagingly Of a friends marriage,
yowing that nothing should induce me
u marry a widower it was then that
he had most unfortunately resolved to
keep the fact Of his previous marriage
private ; and l could well understand
how much suffering the deception had
caused him.
AS a youth of twenty-one he had met
his first wife, the pretty daughter of a
yeoman-farmer, and the belle of the viii
lage where his guardian Colonel Grant
resided. Home from college for his va
cation, he was delighted for SO pleasant
an acquaintance to beguile the tedium
of his stay at the Hall, and their dance
at the harvest-home was the prelude to
a very warm friendship. Their constant
meetings in the sunny meadows and
shady lanes were a most agreeable
change from the hard studies in which
Kendall had been engaged. NO word
save of sympathetic friendship had been
exchanged between them when he re-
turned to college but, whilst his labors
there soon drove his pretty companion
from his mind. her weaker nature was
completely changed by the past few
weeks. By-and-by he was recalled to
the village by a stern note from his
guardian, who informed him on arrival
that Alice Graham was believed to be
in a hopeless consumption, and that she
had despairingly betrayed the secret OF
her love to her mother, who had, un-
known to herself, appealed to Colonel
Grant for his advice. Kendall was
shocked indeed when he saw the change
In the girl he had left so rosy and bloom
ing and, though he knew he did not
deserve all the blame his guardian and
her friends evidently considered his
due, he could not hold himself entirely
innocent in the matter.
1t was a sad affair. My husband
spoke Of it with a trembling voice, and
in deep agitation. 1t seemed as though
the very tendrils Of Alice Grahan's life
were twined round one who realized
now that pity was the utmost feeling OF
his heart towards her. Her father III
sisted on marriage his strictly honor
able guardian advised the same course,
seeing that ''the difference of station
had not prevented the courting," HeI
mother ''didna speak, but she looked in
his face till his heart was like to break, u
whilst the village doctor believed it was
the one chance for her cure, and Alice
herself, on hearing whispers of such
scheme, appeared quite a new creature,
Kendall was married then in obedi-
ence to Colonel Grants wishes and the
promptilgs Of his own good feeling, and,
on his guardians death from a fall III
the hunting-ield, he came into posses
sion Of a substantial provision. His
legal studies had kept him much away
from home, but he always treated hi:
wife with the kindest consideration and
1t was a real grief to him when, in con
sequence Of the sudden tidings of Colo
mel Grants accident, a premature birth
cost the young mother her life. The
baby-boy became KendalAs n solact
In his double loss. / knew too wei
what be felt when he held his frst-borI
In his arms. and my heart grew dry snd