Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-03-30


less OF your health. Now, my mother
will care for you, and you will get strong
again. Do take a more hopeful out
look" he adds, growing very much inter-
ested.
"YOu need not waste a moments SYM
pathy on me, sir; l am fOredoomed. Both
fmy parents died very early of consump-
tion, and l don't in the least care to live.
Please, don't interrupt me, sir. | have
wanted an opportunity to speak TO you.
saw in your eyes this morning that you
recognized me. Please tell me where and
how you saw me.v
"My remembrance of you is not IN
pleasant, Miss Elem" he said, very gent
ly. Il went one night, whilst L was on
the continent year or more ago, 10 Ine
theatre to see an English play. lou
were one of the actors, and your acting
pleased me far better than Madame
Berands, the stars; so l went again the
next night. Do you recall that night
the 9th OF February, l think 1t was -
Yes, certainly"
go YOU remember how in the midst of
the play, you fell fainting on the stage?'
''Oh, yes!'
MANY men sprang to assist you.
reached YOU first and carried you in my
arms to the green room, and, afterwards,
with physician carried you to your
lodging in a carriage"
You were very kind. sir, and | thank
you! Now listen just one moment. Don't
think have come here an actress, with a
questionable reputation, to deceive your
kind household and annoy you with my
presence. l was ordered to change my
residence, and your father invited me to
come here. But l always intended to tell
him somewhat of my history at the first
fitting moment. | only came last night.
This is winter, and l shall die, perhaps,
as soon as the weather grows hot and en-
ervating. / coveted a rest for this short
time, but 1 suppose it matters little at
last how a few invalid weeks are spent
Let your father tell me that my rest
must he found elsewhere and | am ready
TO 60"
There was no effort in her words; no
acting; but she hardly knew with what
pathOs she spoke. The man standing by
her, listening so painfully, felt the force of
every simple word. He felt reprOached
and cOnscience-stricken almost as ifhe had
struck this pretty, frail creature. 1t
seemed to his fine sense OF manly courage
and honor cOwardly thing to have hurt
even by a look this helpless, homeless,
orphaned girl. Obeying sudden i'm
pulse be took one of her small hands into
his own, and SAID:
Miss Weston, if you saw anything in
my looks or manner to offend you. pray
you to forgive either or both. Who am
to cast a stone at you? 1t was presump-
ton to think | had any possible rights in
the matter. l want to be your friend, to
do you all the good | can, to aid my
parents efforts for your comfort, for
your recovery. Please say that you for
give me, and that hereafter we shall be
friends"
His voice had for her a curious fascIna-
ton, and then he looked so trustworthy,
andhs words certainly were generous.
Ellen had not met men of just this stamp,
and she was glad of his friendship, and
glad of his generous words.
Il cannot decline the hand of friend
ship, sir-I, who have not tie of any sort
in life"
''Then let me presume on our compact
and exact one promise of you. Don't tell
my father and mother anything of your
past history. 1t Will only serve TO distress
them, and will do no good of any sort.
Stay with them and be nursed back to
health, and, perhaps, happy future may
be yours STILL"
Il cannot promise, sir. Among my
many faults | have always been truthful.
| will not hide this thing from them. Let
the consequences be what they may, l do
do not propose to 90 into society or mix in
any way with people, nor do 1 feel that
anybody and everybody has a right to
know anything OF my own affairs; but
there is that in your father which in
yltes confidence and encourages my
fainting will. [ can and must tell him."
Then why tell my mother?'
because it Will be a sore punishment
to do 1t, and deserve punishment. Your
father has reached such rare standpoint
IN Christian experience that his very
1 thoughts are subiugated to habits OF
4 charity, 1t is hard for him even to think
/ i'll Of anybody, and whilst your mother is
/ the most lOYaDle woman l have ever
! known, she Is still a woman, and they sit
/ always in stern judgment on their erring
/ sisters. Conscious of having always
breathed an atmosphere of purity, they
cannot bear even a moments contact with
a lower stratum. l expect little mercy
/ from women. l shall, no doubt, get more
+ than l deserve from. your mOther.''
Mr.. Fearne felt that she was right, and
4 he saw that she was resolved, and moth
/ ing he could say would turn her from her
/ purpose.
Il should advise yOu," he said, ''not tC
/ be too precipitate with this disclosure
/ Wait until my mother has learned to love
/ you for yourself. as YOU deserve, and
] shen, if it must be told, let her affection
/ speak for you. In the meantime, l want
+ you to know that my offer of friendship
! was altogether sincere. If there is any
I ready to DO it, and | trust you will test my
/ sincerity at your earliest need"
She looked up at HIM in sort of awed
i admiration. He is actually talking I'M
/ seltishly, kindly, with no purpose of his
! own to suDserye, she thinks, and yet he is
( a man. She said nothing, but acting on
impulse, as she had done all of her help.
/ less lite, she laid one white hand on his
/ arm, and, lifting pair of tender eyes to
! his face, said:
i really believe you are a gentleman,
/ and | have known so few-sO fewr'
! There was a world of histOry-Of sad
unwritten history in her short common
tary, and, greatly touched, he took heI
/ hand into both of his and said:
Il trust l am, and you may be sure
/ recognize your claims to being lady,
At this most inoppOrtune moment, as be
/ stood holding her hand and looking down
most kindly at her, the door opens and d
/ servant announces "Mr. Belthamv fol-
/ Mr.. Fearne. and that astute gentleman
/ being full two inches taller than the SER
! want sees and takes note of the situation