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

tUAI Elk y y l.-IONIINIED.
At her pretty well-appointed breakfast
table the next morning Mrs. Fearne sits
complacent and happy. She is waiting
'-iuzt TWO seconds for the doctor, as she
mas done at this hour for the last thirty
years. He is just little slow to lay
down his book and quit his study even for
the comfortable spread which invariably
awaits him, and his wife, considering
these little eccentTicities only a part and
parcel of a good mans life. or as the in
evitable spots on the sun, accepts the sit
uation with entire faith and patience,
and has. up to this date, ''made no sign
Might not some other wives learn a
pretty lesson here of conservative grace
and conjugal wisdom? We only make a
wayslde suggestion; the moral points it
self.
Mr.. Fcarne has taken his seat also, but
il does not occur to hIm to infringe on
this long-established precedent, although
he is entirely ready to breakfast. Happi-
H. this customary waiting is not sub
jeCt TO uncertainties or change of any
sort, and three minutes has heretofore
been the utmost limit of the matutnal
tax. To-day, however, for some uneX-
planned cause, five slow minutes are
licked OIL before the door opens and ad-
mits the doctor with the cause on his arm.
Ellen Weston has been sought and found
before her host would permit himself to
eat or drink.
Here she is, dear" he said, looking
gratfed and glad. "Here she is
feeling rested and better now. Ellen,
there Is your seat, and YOU are to eat
good breakfast and grow tat and strong;
and, an, here is my son; won't you know
hm1 He is good and pleasant, too. and
/ want you to like each other. EscOtte,
this Is my new daughter, Ellen Weston"
The girl raised her bright eyes to find
the mans fixed on her with critical, Sc
we're expression, but there was something
more; il was a look of recognition! He
knew heFi"
OF course, he acknowledged the intro
duction with perfect courtesy. and, of
course, his pleased parents saw nothing;
but the girl saw and suffered.
HE knows me! He knows of me! how
muchI an! how much, l wOnderY'
A quick sense of distress filled her soul.
She had liked his loOks--sO grave, so ele-
CANT. so handsome! and his voice had
somehow given her confidence as he babe
his father good morning. but when his
eyes met hers they had told wOiul story
OF kB. Wedge and mistrust.
''He thinks me an impOstOr; that l am
trading in his fathers Christian fOrbear-
ance, imposing on his hospitality. am
not good, surely, but not what he thinks.
No, not thatl not thatI"
II was only by an effort that she sat
still and listened to the talk about her.
She wanted to get up and say:
Il am not going TO live here and accept
your kindness with deceit in my soul.
When the right time comes the truth
shall be known. / do not shrink from or
dread exposure. ! invite it'll"
Still she must give his suspicious con-
tirmation, and feel his stern eyes fixed
ever and anon on her face.
Did he know evil of her, or did he only
q
chains that conscious guilt FORCES for us
all. Her soul could not know ever again
the freedom of innocence. Conscience
was frightening her ever with POSSIBLE
ties, and SHE felt bound and fettered. Mr..
Fearne's manner to her was hardly what
she thought it. He had recognized her,
and one quick, resentful look went with
this discovery But her manner was so
thoroughly gentle, her looks SO modest,
her voice so lOw-tOned and sweet, that as
he was essentially a just man, and as he
knew no certain i'll of this girl, he deter
mined, as far as possible, to destroy by
kind attention the painful impression his
first stern look had made. In this he did
not succeed. The wound had been made,
and the remedy aid not reach it.
This he knew and saw, and, sOrely re-
GREETING his involuntary reprOOf, blamed
himself for his precipitancy, and felt that
he had already wrOnged possibly innO-
people Of any by-play of words or
action, under their own eyes, are the
thoroughly pure and good of this world.
They are so clear OF dOuble-dealIng, so
superior to innuendO, so unsuspecting,
that any want of harmony or any discOrd
OF sentiment so patent to more worldly
minded persons falls unheeded alike on
their observation and hearing. DR..
Fearne and his wife saw and suspected
nothing, and when, having been sent tor
by sick neighbor, little later, he and
his wife left Ellen at home in their sons
care; they believed they had but promote.
the happiness and comfort of each. Mr..
Fearne had led the way back to the par
Tor fire, but just how to begin duet con-
VersatiOn he hardly knew; so, just as an
other man might, fell back on common
places.
Il trust you are going to like your home
here with nv father. Miss Ellen" he said;
she is so gratifed to have yOu.'
Il should" she answered, quickly. at
must be 4 rare privilege to live in the
house with such people as your parents.
l trust this great blessing Will be mine for
few short months"
"Why do you speak of your stay as
limited? l know it is their pleasure to
consider this your home"
$50 il may be as long as I need
home"
- think 1 don't just catch your mean
ing"
IL mean, sir, that my home among liy-
ing people will not be long; I have con-
sumption. and l have been told that l
shall die sOOn."
This was said without touch of regret
or any kind of demand for sympathy.
She gave him a plain, business fact in
connection with her affairs, and gave tia
cOolly as if she were asking the time of
day. He looked, as he felt, shocked. The
idea of death was by no means alluring
to him, and yet this girl spoke of
1t quite as a matter of course and with the
coolest uncOncern. Somehow her talk
recalled the short letter she had written
10 his father. and, very much touched, he
said, looking the while at her graceful
hgure and pretty, youthful face;
You surely are not in earnest: you
surely cannot mean what you say. You
look we'll and bright-neither pale nor deli
cate. Your physician. had, perhaps, no
right to express such an opinion. At any
rate, his judgment is not final. Some
other professional might tell you your