The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1885-07-25

rights. Oh, Mabel, nature is an unerring
teacher, and in your love and obedience to
me | have, at this late day, learned les
son of duty. | was, when young, carefully
educated in all but that most important of
lessons to a child, flial obedience [ was
brought up to think that my own wishes
must be gratifed at any cost; and when |
met and loved your father, instead of wait
ing patiently to gain consent which my
indulgent parents could not long have with
held to our union, we were married clan
destinely. My one effort at reconciliation
was not successful and -and-but, darl-
ing, | am too weary to say any more.
Another day will finish my story"
But when the morrow's sun shone into
the room, it was to rest, like a voiceless
benediction, upon clay-clad form, and upon
a motherless girl alone with it and her
sorrow
AT first the desolute child-for Mabel
was but fourteen-was conscious only of
her bereavement. But soon came thought
which brought with it such keen pain that
it aroused her to instant action. Her
darling mother must not be laid away to
rest in the Potter's Field.
She would 90 to the kind old gentleman
who had given her the flowers, and ask him
for help in this trying hour which had
come to her young life. She found him
at home.
"Oh, sir" she said piteously, mother is
lvino cold and still, with all the sweet life
gone out of her beautiful body You are
kind and rich. | know it is great deal
to ask, but if you keep them from laying
her in charity grave will pay back every
penny you spend.
The pleading, tear-stained face, the child
ish yet womanly ways of the self-reliant
little creature, thus pledged to fulfil duty
which would entail long hours of labor and
DAYS of anchorite abstinence before it could
be accomplished, touched chord in Ran
dolph Gwinne's heart.
s'Go home, little one" he said gently
0and mourn for your dead Do not fear;
| will see that all needful arrangements are
attended to.
After all was over, Mable settled down
again to her monotonous routine of work
Every week she scrupulously laid aside a
portion of her earnings and carried them to
Mr.. Gwinne, who took them from her with
apparent indifence.
The child had made a contract with him
and out of respect to her the man of bust
ness carried it out to the letter.
At last the final payment was made. As
Mabel turned to go, after thanking hel
benefactor, his voice recalled her to his
side.
Little Mabel" he said, II have been
an interested spectator of your manner OF
life since you and | made our bargain.
have seen your cheeks grow pale for want
of the food you persisted in denying your
self, that you might bring your weekly
hoard to me, and l wondered if one SC
young would be able to carry out so high
resolve. You have succeeded and all
your life long you will have it to remember
Now, your part is done, and mine begins
Give me your hand, my child, for Randolph
Gwinne respects you, More than that, he
loves you well enough to ask you to be.
come his adopted daughter. Come ant
make your home with me. You shall have
every advantage that bountiful means car
provide. You will have no objections
Chauncey my boy, will you?" as his grand
son came into the room.
A few words explained his meaning, anc
Chauncey turned his handsome eyes indif
ferently toward the hesitating girl. 1t was
not the first time they had met-as Mabe
was conscious in every fibre of her sensi
tive being, but Chauncey did not remembel
her.
So the careless but good-natured 80
course, grandfather, one more or less doe:
not matter in this great house, sank deel
into Mabels memory, to rise again to th'
surface and influence her future long atte
Chauncey had forgotten them.
So it was that Mabel was domiciled a
the Gwinnes. A governess was engaged
for her, and music and painting lesson
soon occupied the time not engaged in he
studies. Thus year passed on.
One morning the daily paper was brough
as usual to Mr.. Gwinne, as he was sittin!
at the breakfast table, slipping coffee,
Suddenly an exclamation from HIM ar
rested Mabel's attention.
He had read notice asking for tn
knowledge of the whereabouts of one Ra
chel Freeland, whose married name wa
Wynne. Her only surviving parent hat
died, and she, if living, was sole heiress t
a LARGO fortune. if dead. her children Woult
inherit.
"Well | remember poor Rachel, SAT-
Mr.. GYtRpe musingly. "She was tn
handsomest girl | eyer saw. She gave II
all for love, and made q elandestlne MAI
rage with man of whom her parents dis
approved. Poor Rachel wonder if sh
is alive p
Mabel rose from the table, and went t
Mr.. Gwinne She was very pale, but he
eyes shone With excitement. :,
nRaehel Preelapd was my mother 9 malq
en- name. Oh my kind benefactof, ho'
little you knew whose child it was you wer
befriending But for you she would b
sleeping in a nameless grave p
sTruly, the ways of God are mysterious!
said the Kind hearted old gentleman, takIn
off his spectacles to wipe away the sHHaad sHHaade
mist that blurred them,
Mabel had no difficulty In proving he
claim, as her parents marriage eertiHoat
was found among some papers slowed ava
in an old chest. So the orphan wal
adopted by Randolph was now indeper
dently wealthy in her own right
Mabel was now fifteen, She had ne
changed much in personal appearance d.
ring the year of her stay at the Gwinnes
She was still slight and rather uRdersizec
Her complexion was rather salioE, aa
though her features were regular, she vi
uRdepiahly plain. Her lHKlriant shinip
hair and I4stroqs eyes, were; however, SUI
aciept to redeem her from positive ugl
ness.
Chauncey was still student, comm
home only for his college vacations, an
then burying himself in his beloved book
so that he was only visible at meal time
Suddenly Mr.. Gwinne's health talle'
and he was ordered abroad. Mabel an
Miss Clay, her governess, accompanle
him. They remained away from hon
three yeaFs
Then word came to Ghaqncey that the
wore co1ninu home. They were tired {