Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-01-06

He stood still in a very graceful atti-
/ tude, and awaited her coming without a
word. From the house Mrs. Beltham
! could be seen, but her son could not until
I the terrace was quite reached. The lady
OF whom they had been speaking came
slowly toward them. looking about her
Wiu some interest too. as she believed she
b5d teard voices. She was about the
m"diIm height, slender and graceful, with
a TAI. gentle face, and very abundant
liebb hair. Her usual expression was
rather sad, and a little droOp of the mouth
made her look sometimes almost childish.
But whatever her face lacked of inteilec-
tual force and will-pOwer, was forgiven
for the Ike of an appealing amiability, Il
sort Of helpless gentleness which had all
her life put her at the mercy OF her
friends-foes she had none and made it
hard even for the coolest TO treat her with
indifference.
Annie Barrett, though a wife of six
years, and seven and twenty years old,
was still only what she would be always
"a thoroughly amiable and innocent
child.
Twenty years before Mrs. Beltham had
taken her from her dying mothers arms,
and promised her home and mothers
love, and she had really tried to keep her
promise; even when her handsome son
had fancied he loved this young girl, and
asked her penniless hand in marriage;
even when, with an eye single tn the IN
terests of both, she had broken up the
affair and declared they were silly chill
dren, and loved each other only as brother
and sister; eveA when her son had east
ly aud rapidly recovered from the entan-
clement, and had long looked back on 1t
as piece of egreglOus nonsense; even
When, a few years later, she had married
her adopted daughter to a distinguished
and wealthy gentleman, old enough to be
her father; even when she knew, as she
had known all the while, that Annie,
though perfectly submissive and obedient,
was far from happy; even when she be-
lieYed, as she knew only too well now,
that, Notwithstanding the young wife was
as innocent as an infant and as dutiful as
she knew how to be, that her son was the
only man 1T would ever be possible for
her to lOve-yes, she had done her duty
to the mOtherless little girl. 1t was her
care which had provided many winters at
Washington city as the wife of Con-
gresham for her adopted child, and it
was to her care she owed her present
dignitied position as mistress of this ele-
CANT home.
Poor, gentle Annie! She had never OPP
posed any scheme of her kind mothers.
She loved and admired her too much, and
as for Albert, he had always, in her hum
bic thoughts, seemed too great and too
good for her. She had always taken him
ut his own exaggerated valuation OF him
self, and he seemed one of the worlds
herOt Star, very far above the level of or
binary humanity. When she was married
her mother had told her that she had en-
tirelv recovered from her childish love for
Albert, and she had tried to agree with
her. thinking such a woman too wise to
make a mistake. But both mother and
Al a
her grave this deathless passion for the
lover of her girlhOOd. Under
the free and easy intercourse
of brother and sister, Mrs. Beltham,
just to crafty his vanity, had kept
her love alive by attentions at once
respectful and tender. His voice always
took a sOftened tone, and his eyes a soft
ned expression when he spoke to, or
looked at her. There was, too, delicate
Difference sometimes when they, We're
quite alone, sadly delicate
her, that to the trustful, I'M
worldly woman, told of suffering nobly
borne for her sake-borne silently, too,
with only too sensitive a care for her pO-
sitiOn. To their friends he spoke openly
and frequently of his fondness for his sis
ter and playmate. So he considered
he had acted wisely and well, and was no
| lllJic pTOuu VI HIS jdCl. OuG p6IbUu nc
| knew was never deceived. His wise and
watchful mother had eyes of her own and
| used them we'll. But sometimes, in the
night, in the dark and dreary night, when
the sad face and blighted life of her
daughter came too wildly across her
wakeful senses, when her promise to the
| dying mother would intrude itself too i'm
| pertinently on her restless thoughts, she
| quieted her conscience with a promise
| that, as she had used unpleasant means to
| accomplish happy ends, so would she use
| her utmost powers to promote others all
| in good time. She would, if she lived, see
! Annie happy and her son content. In the
meantime they must all be patient. SO it
| resulted, that out OF the three actors III
this little drama, Annie alone was the suf.
ferer.
ITO BE CONTINUED