The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-11-01

Mrs. Grey stood like one entranced. her agita-
ton visible to all. Her delicate hands were
tightly locked together; her breath came in quick
gasps.
How like" she murmured; "how strangely
like! In heavens name, who is she9"
MY adopted daughter" Mrs. Livingstone re-
piled, for Roy had turned aside in silence, over
come by the sight of the beauty he had loved
and lost. Twelve years ago | took her-then
five years old-from a poor old fisherman down
on the beach, three or four miles away. He had
rescued her from the sea on the night of a great
storm, two years before, and had cherished and
cared for her tenderly; but finding sickness
and old age fast robbing him Of health and
strength, he sought to find a friend for his little
girl in me-"
Imagination cannot picture anything lovelier
than the child was then. l loved her at first
sight, and have loved her always. 1 adopted,
educated her, and brought her up as my own. l
have the clothes she wore when she was found,
but they furnish no clew to her parentage, but
on her ARM lasped firmly above the elbow, was
a bracelet; it fits her slender wrist now; you see
she wears it in the portrait. Upon it is a single
word-the old fisherman took it to be her name,
and so called her; We never changed it. Avis
was the word, and Avis she is called
Avis" she cried, MY child-it is my child.
Fourteen years ago the cruel sea washed her
ana her father from my arms. The waves re-
stored him dead, but she was seen no more.
Where is she-oh, where is she! And the clothes
she woreW
one sank DdCK IN hOyS supporting dTluS SpGSCl-
less, almost insenslble.
Mrs. Livingstone FASTENED from the room, but
returned Immediately with the little garments:
Weeping with love and joy, the long. bereaved
mother identified them all.
BLESSED be the merciful Heaven that has
kept her safely, and restored her TO me after ali
these years. And you, my friend, turning to
Mrs. Livingstone, chow shall 1 thank you for
your love and care2 Oh, bring her to me. Let
me clasp her once more in my arms. Why do
Won hpSltafnR am cfrnnO pnOupl, low does not
kill. What is itF she continued wildly, gazing
with growing fear upon the pale averted faces
of mother and son. Has harm befallen my
childl Have l found her only to lose herr Avis,
my daughterl Where is shef'
Rose Brandon rushed to her side.
"Be calm" she cried. "Avis is safe and well.
No harm has come to her. Listen to me; | can
tell you where to find her"
Your it was Roy who spoke. You know
AvisF7
II know her well, but I have never known.
until this moment, of her connection with this
family. Why have you kept your loss and grief
a secret, Royl l could have helped you, had
known your troubles, long ago."
ut is nearly a year since she came to us, in
answer to an advertisement for a music gov
erness for little Ida. Mother was sick when
first she called, and consequently 1 received her.
She was so beautiful and innocent and yet so
sad and friendless that my whole heart went out
to her from the first. She told me the simple
story of her adoption here and of Roy's love and
hers, but without mentioning a single name, SO
that | never thought of you. She had left, she
said in order that he might forget her. She gave
me as a reference her own former music teacher,
who, while answering for Avis in every way, de-
clined to tell anything that the girl had left con-
cealed. So she came to us and has dwelt with
us ever since, quiet and sad, poor child, but safe
and kindly cared for. 1 left her at home withIda
and mother when l came away. She is there
now"
Roy Livingstone caught her hands in his and
nraEEnd fhOn1 fn hIO Inns
"God bless you Rose!' he cried, hoarse with
emotion. You have given me back happiness
and love. Mrs. Grey, l will bring your daugh-
ter to you go by the train that leaves in half
your arms. Adieu, all" and he was gone;
The dusky gray of an autumn twilight filled
the lonely school-room that afternoon. but oc-
casionally flashes of light from a small but
cheerful fire fell on the slender girlish figure that
sat before it in a low armchair her soft, pale
cheek supported by one little hand, her eyes
fixed on the glowing Goals.
A world of longing love and fond regret was
in those great dark eyes, that saw not what they
gazed upon, but were looking far away into the
past.
Thinking of Roy-always thinking of Roy.
Where was hel How Jared he2 Had he forgot
ten Avisl Alasl poor Avis could not forget2
Hark! what was thatl
A footstep in the hall outside the door. Moth
ing in that to make the eyes so bright and the
pale cheek flush to vivid crimson! All, but it had
sounded like Roy's footstep. Roy's footstep here
what idle dreamingl What strange tricks
fancy played her oftentimes.
She could close her eyes and hide her face in
her hands, as now-now, partly for shame at
her own fond folly-and fancy, oh, such things!
Fancy The Laurels her happy home once more,
and Mrs. Livingstone her kind adopted mother!
Fancy Roy's tender smile and loving look; re-
call the very words he spoke-his earnest tone
his sigh.
What was that That was not fancy, surely}
She sat quite still-her face still covered by her
hauds-and listened; a sigh had sounded close
beside her, breathed like the very echo of her
dream; and now a voice-oh, heaven, what
voice!-whispered her name.
"Avis! Look at me, Avisp
She turned, she rose, gazed for one moment in
his face as If bewildered; then, with a cry of
love and joy unutterable: Roy, my beloved!'
sprung to the arms, sunk on the breast of her
true lover.
you have foundd me!' she cried. "You have
found me!'
Never to lose you again, Avis-never again."
And your motherl"
Her great eyes searched his face timidly, anx-
iously.
'She will welcome you as 1 do. Weshall part
no more. You will learn, dear, that she never
meant to part us. And another waits for you.
Oh, come, love, come, to the heart that aches to
welcome you-to the arms of your own true
mother.
Only one month later a brilliant bridal party
aroused to joy and mirth the slumbering echoes
of The Laurels.
And who so fair as Avis, the sweet bride, with
her troop of lovely bridesmaids, of whom Rose
Brandon laughed and blushed, the merry chief
Who so rich, so proud so happy as Avis, nowl
Avis, the founding, found, indeed, at last, and
by her own true mother; Avs, the lost, restored
to all who loved and mourned her; Avis, the joy
full bride of the generous, noble lover who, in
the days of her poverty and namelessness-in
spite of time, and absence, and silence and
desertion-loved her faithfully and truly to the
last.
Succeeded in Making the Parrot Talk.
Catasauqua Dispatch.
AT a residence in this place, where a knowing
parrot has its abode, a lady visitor, approximate