Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-04-06

CHAPTER XVIII.
An! Charlie. you've come at last, have
yOug ] have been wondering how many
for wild young thing who has become
such a will-O' -the-wisp that one cannot
touch her with his hand. Come in, come in
and speak for Yourself. a week, a whole
long week. for two old folks to wander
from one room to the other and wonder
what has become Of the runaway child.''
Uncle Henry was leaning on the gate,
evidently watching for his pretty scholar.
when she came strOllmg up the sunny
street.
@Well, / am here at last, you see, sir,
and If we were inside the house | think
I'd kiss you, you look so handsome with
your white hair shining in the sunlight
'Flatterer, do you think an old man
cares for cOmplimentss"
-.Of course l do. Not one of you are
so potent, grave and reverend that you
sc0rn a little iudiciOus flattery; not laid
on with a trOwel,' as we weak women
folks like it, but so delicately put that one
feels the pleasant suggestion without be-
ing downright certain of the intent"
File! tie, where have you learned such
nice distinctions: Come into the house,
and, when have been kissed, perhaps I'll
tell you something pleasant and new"
DAA LlAC oolAAGLAAilE pheasant Alll not " AT
for kiss or anything else, Out of the
fullness of the good mans heart his words
came quickly:
Charlie, l have found a pretty, nest
less bird. The old ones have gone, the
nest has been broken, and this one little
fledgling, with no wing under which to
shelter its poor head, has been hopping
about in the cold trying to pick up
crumbs, and day after day the hapless
thing has pecked at our windows begging
to be fed and sheltered, but we were blind
and cruel and could neither hear nor see.
until the pretty creature, tired and
broken, hoped into our opened window,
and we saw at last where our duty was
and we are trying to smooth its rumpled
feathers and nurse it back to life. Who
can say that our strange bird will not yet
soar toward the sun and fill the sky with
mel0dY?'
Uncle Henry, don't l know you are
talking Of Ellen WestOn:' laughed the
girl.
just so, darling; it is Ellen Weston,
poor Ellen! pretty Ellen. orphaned Ellen !,
/ don't insult your goodness by asking
you to love her. You are ready for that
7 know; but come in and bid her welcome
and make her glad"
He opened the study door as he spoke,
and said:
ELLEN, daughter, here is the Charlie l
told you, you should know
Elaine We're stood up for one quick mo-
ment, looking keenly at the beautiful,
happy. sinless girl: then, with a little de-
predatory gesture of canton, held back
and bowed gracefully in answer to the
kind introduction. Charities bright eyes
had looked as critically a. the girl, had
looked seaTchingly, even as if she would
like, in one glance, to fathOm ali her
strange, sad history. The message those
eyes brought to her heart was one full of
wOmanly love and pity; and when her Of
iered hand was not taken, and the tender,
dOWncast eyes Of the stranger fell before
her own, all the generous impulses of
Charles great heart were stirred to their
depths, and, going up closely. she laid one
hand on the slender shoulder of the
orphan and said:
And you have only bow for me, Ell
len? You, who are my uncle's other
daughter! Seel l have more for yOur'
and with her fresh, sweet lips she kissed
her once, twice, thrice! ''NOw, we are
not strangers, Ellen. You and l, who
have neither of US father or mother: but
we have this dear old man. Do you fancy
we can want anything of love or COM
fort -
Tt was the tenderest, sweetest sound,
this pretty welcome, Elaine We're had
ever heard from a woman's lips, and
NAAt-A AAANtts y ct MOuUGIlil8 Will Il lldluGu
and sudden surprise, she took Charities
hand and said with a curious, touching
humility:
You are too good to me, Charlie"
Indeed L am not" she said. with earn
est kindness. ''NOw, you sit there on the
sofa by uncle Henry, and | will sit here
where l may see you both. You have no
idea how pretty a picture you make: I'M
Gle Henry, you know, is not bad to look
at, and YOU. Ellen Weston Won are 1--we
Typ
DR.. Fearne looked on with the most en-
tire satisfaction and delight. He had
hoped and prayed that Charlie might s'take
to- his prOtege, but he did not feel by
any means certain that she would. The
little woman, he knew, was generous and
Kind. but, Withal, somewhat of a physiOg-
nOmIst and if, on first inspection, the new
conner had failed of pleasing, it would not
be easy to treason her" into Charities re-
gards. But they had met and both were
most evidently pleased, and the good old
mans cup was very full. What Ellen
Weston so liked in her new friend was her
look of sincerity and truthfulness. Moth
ing seemed kept back; no kindly senti-
ment waited further developments, but
freely, gladly her faith and love even
seemed given, and she boldly asked as
much in return. In Charles generous
mind had grown the doctors fanciful idea
of a ''nestless Bird and, when she saw
Ellen's frail beauty and grace, together
with the appealing look in her eyes, her
heart yearned over this hapless stranger
as it had never done before, and she felt
strong to love and protect her forever.
1t was a happy three days at the
'manse" in which the two mOtherless
girls grew to love and know each other.
Very happy they were to the doctor and
his wife, who felt that they were in some
measure making mp to the girl for long
years of cruel but most unintentiOnal neg
lect. But they were over at last. and
when Charlie had kissed her new friend
al the gate, and babe her be cheerful and
happy until she came again, nor man nor
woman in the wide world could have con-
WINGED her that Ellen Weston was not
what she had, from the first moment, be-
HeYed her, one of the pure and perfect Of
the earth. 4
50 Charlie went back to nurse her young
mother. and to think fOndly of this sweet
friend, who seemed to have come into her
sisterless life like the realization of a long
cherished wish, the fulillment of happy
hope.
In her own room, after Charlie had
gone, Elaine We're held severe reckoning
with herself.
'Yesr' she said, as she sat with
ciasped hands looking out at the bright
young buds and tender leaves into richer
color and glorified even the dull streets,
yes l am playing a brave, good role.
am proud OF my excellence. l glory in my
art. 1t is the very cast for one so pure of
HE and so large Of hope, so rich in
honor. Not content to sit in the constant
smile OF these two Christians, to listen to
lneIr earnest prayers, and claim a
daughters share of their care and love;
not content with this, say, l must do
more; must, for days, live in the heartof
that brave, beautiful child, the embOdi-
lnent Of friendship. All! even OF sisterly
love and confidence; l must hear all her
innocent, guileless thoughts, and see the
child-like love and trust In her very ewes.
ana know myself no more fit for such
Entered according to act of Congress IN the
year 1874 10y j. II. Estill, in the Office of the
LIBRARIAN of Congress at Washington.