The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1885-06-17

across his broad shoulders.
..Mav trouble you for a drink of
water?'' he asked, in low, musical
voice, that made the young girl stare;
its refined accents were so different
from the rough northern dialect to
which she was accustomed.
Before Daisy could comply with the
request. the door swung suddenly
open, and hard, strong-featured face,
with beetling black brows and fiery
eyes, peered out.
Mrs. Wentworth, Daisy's step
mother.
Don't come in here.' she cried, in
a shrill, acrid voice, glowering angrily
at the astonished young man. You
have nothing want in that nasty pack.
| never buy of hawkers. I'm dis
gusted with the whole tribe; and Daisy
there has put me all out of temper
with her trifiing and idling. just like
her mother, they say. It's dreadful
bring up. | would never have mar
ried Silas Wentworth had l known he
would die at the end of five years, and
leave me to take care of his first wife 5
brat. l have children enough of my
own to look after.
A roguish twinkle showed itself in
Clement Ashley's eyes as he replied
MY pack only contains the kit of a
strolling artist. But here comes the
real Simon Pure, as a freckled-faced
hawker, with scraggy, sandy NOUS
tache, climbed the steps. II only want
to beg a draught of water"
Daisy's cheeks were burning hotly,
but she caught up her print sun-bon-
net, and, bringing a tumbler from the
pantry-shelf, led the way to the well at
the rear of the house.
Clement drank the cool water she
proffered, as though it had been am
brosia. On returning the empty glass,
his gaze happened to fall upon the
brooch that fastened Daisy's collar. 1t
was a cameo of considerable value-a
portrait finely and artistically cut; but
it did not look out of place, though her
dress was of common material.
Il beg your pardon!" he said,
eagerly. ''But may | ask where you
got that brooch?"
ut was my mothers ;" Daisy replied;
''that is why like to wear it. -
''Oh-an heirloom? Can you tell
me anything of its history?"
Very little. My mother priced it
highly The likeness is that of some
relative-a great-aunt, | believe
''What was your mothers maiden
name?'
ETHEL Mclean"
Clement gazed at the young girl
curiously He would have said more,
but Mrs. Wentworth's shrill voice
sounded at that instant, calling sharply
for Daisy.
Don't be lettering there, you good
for-nothing child? You might try to
make yourself useful occasionally.
You've only been burden to me ever
since your father died. y
Daisy fitted away, a painful flush
suffusing her face.
But she had not seen the last of the
handsome artist, for that evening, as
she stood dejectedly at the garden
gate, he came whistling along the lane,
and paused beside her.
You have been crying" he ex-
claimed, abruptly, looking into her
pretty eyes. That dreadful woman
has been scolding you again?"
II deserved it, no doubt"
"Why don't you leave her? Have
you no relatives to whom you could
goP"
Daisy shook her pretty head.
There is only the great-aunt of
whom l spoke this morning-and l
don't even know where to find her,
Suppose you 60 away with me?n
The girl stared at him, her cheeks
flushed. her lips apart.
IL don't understand what you
mean, sir,' she stammered.
There is no occasion to look so
frightened. little one. though it is very
sudden. But took liking to YOU at
once, and | cannot endure to see YOU
abused. want you for my wife, darl-
ing"
mo, no-you cannot realize what
you are saying, or else YOU are onfv
laughing at met cried Daisy. running
away and hiding herself, with emo
tons singularly blended of rapture and
alarm.
Two weeks wore on. Daisy saw no
more of the handsome artist, but she
was continually dreaming or thinking
of him.
One morning, Daisy unexpectedly
received letter 1t fell first into her
stepmother's hands, who, in the exer-
else of privilege she arrogated to her.
self, Immediately tore it open and pos
sessed herself of its contents. 1t ran
thus
Il do not expect to feel proud of grand
niece brought up IN a Yorkshire farm, but
1t is time you saw something of the world,
You can come to me for six weeks visit.
if you like. But don't expect to become
my heiress. My will is made already, and
PATTY MCLEAN"
Daisy's heart beat with hope and ex-
pectation.
Il may go?n she cried. in an eager,
pleading tone.
Mrs. Wentworth frowned, but con-
scented.
When Daisys preparations were all
made. and she was about setting out
upon her journey. Mrs. Wentworth
said
Now / want you to speak a good
word for Joanna. She amt no rela-
ton of Miss McLean's. to be sure. but
the old miser might send her a few
dresses and jewels. and never miss
'em. Take everything that's offered
you, Daisy, and when you come back
I'll divide the things between you two
girls. -
Daisy was quite startled by the mag
niticence of the house where Miss Nc
Lean resided.
Her great-aunt, wrinkled old lady
in black velvet and lace, welcomed her
with kiss.
You have your mothers face, my
dear | am glad of that =
.'Oh, cried Daisy, eagerly. do you
remember my mother?n
Certainly. used to wish she was
. boy. that | might leave her my
money. But girls are not of much
consequence in this world. / had lost
all trace of poor Ethel And SO Silas
Wentworth IS dead? He was a good
man. but sadly wanting in energy.
How did You find me, Aunt PattyP''
THAT'S secret, y chuckled the old
lady.
1t was . charmed life that opened
for Daisy. Edinburgh. with all its at
fractions ard novelties. seemed like en-
chanted land- She was thoroughly
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