News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1885-04-02
not keep people near me who displease

Again that cutting emphasis of tone
Estelle did not answer, and Mrs. Vain
wright spoke again.
81 expect, therefore, that you vii
abandon this romantic scheme of return
ing to Mill Village. There are asyIums
where your aunt can be received"
''Not while can work for her." Es.
telle said very firmly.
"Mrs. Pope writes that she will prob
ably sell her cottage and live upon the
price in some such place. A hospital,
probably"
I "Poor Aunt Mary. You will let me
| go to her ?"
81 do not pretend to control your
movements" was the reply, in cold
voice. ''When took you from life OF
poverty and toll, to take your place
here as my niece and heiress, expected
to have a loving, grateful companion.
Since L have been mistaken, YOU can
leave nae whenever you desire it. ONLY
[ wish it understood that you choose be-
tween your Aunt Mary and myself,
finally"
Estelle's eyes were full of tears, but
she controlled her voice, by strong
effort, to say:
81 am not ungratefnl, Aunt Cora.
though 1 never considered myself your
ne1ress. L thank you from my heart,
and if you were poor and sick you would
not find me ungrateful. But my duty
seems 30 clear to me that cannot hes
ltate. Even at the price of your dis
pleasure, I must go. But" she added
timidly, 81 hope you will forgive me u
ooh. I shall not quarrel with you,
child. You may go, certainly. Only
do not fatter yourself with the idea that
you can return here when you tire of
your sentimental duties, There, go to
your own room, and give me your de-
clsion at dinner. Not a word now."
So dismissed, Estelle went slowly to
the room where every adornment spoke
OF her aunt's care for her. She was
young and had endured poverty for
many years, SO it was not without some
bitter tears for herself that she faced the
situation. She fully appreciated the
difference between Mrs. Wainwright's
helress, and dressmaker toiling for the
support of two women; between the
petted child of this home of luxury, with
servants to obey every wish, and the
drudge of little cottage with an almost
helpless invalid to care for. Yet she
never faltered.
And when Mrs. Wainwright saw the
pale, resolute face at dinner, she knew
that she must lose one who was very
dear to her. Not for the first time, she
regretted her own residence abroad for
fourteen years, when she might have
been winning Estelle's love, as this
invalid aunt had done.
81 see" she said, when the silent, al
most untasted meal was over, ''you still
cling to your idea of duty. Go then.
Take with you whatever 1 have given
you, fof want no reminders of your rin-
grateful desertion. had rather spare
myself the pain of any parting scene.
John shall drive you to the depot in the
morning, and this will pay your travel
ing expenses, and help you until you OBJ
tain work"
She placed a note for hundred dol
lars in Estelle's hand as she spoke, and
turned coldly from her. But the girl,
now sobbing convulsively, caught her
hand and kissed it warmly.
do not think me ungrateful," she
said, her tears falling fast sit breaks
my heart to offend you. Please kiss
me, and give me loving word before /
CO."
"There, child, never make scene
Good-by;" and she did kiss the pleading,
upturned face.
"May I write to your"
"Just as you please. I shall not ex-
pect it."
And keeping her cold, impassive face,
Mrs. Wainwright went to her own
room, bolted the door, and came out no
more until Estelle had taken her de-
parture the next day.
1t was a room most unlike that in
which Mrs. Wainwright had taken leave
of Estelle, that the young girl entered
late in the afternoon of the following
day. The little cottage where Mrs.
West wept for her unnatural child's de-
sertion had but four rooms, all counted,
and these were furnished very simply.
In one of these, STOPPING over a sewing
machine, stopping often to cough, an
elderly lady, in plain mourning gar
ments, was seated when Estelle came in.
Every trace of agitation was carefully
driven from her face, as, with tender
smile. she said:
"Aunt Mary, will you say welcome
home to me?"
"Estelle -
That was all, but the Joy of the tone
was too warm to be hidden.
"You are glad to see me-" Estelle
said, brightly.
"Glad, child glad My own loving
little girl. / have missed you soreIy,
Estelle. But" she said, suddenly,
''you have not quarreled with your
Aunt Cora?
"We heard you were alone" Estelle
said, evasively, $50 got permission to
make you long visit. Aunt Cora gave
me hundred dollars for housekeeping.
"Alone p the mother said, piteously
''Theoda has gone, Estelle. My child
whom I never denied any pleasure in
my power to grant On, Estelle, it will
kill me p
And looking into the deep, sunken
eyes, the hollow cheeks, Estelle knew
her aunt spoke truly. The little rem
nant of life in the consumptive frame
was surely to be shortened by the cruel
ty of her own child.
But by every loving device the self
sacrificing girl strove to keep the feeble
flame of life still burning. She let it be
known in the village that she was anxious
to obtain work as a dressmaker, and
soon found employment. Some curios-
ity was expressed at this sudden return
from the erich aunt" who had taken her |
away year before, but Estelle only
told the simple truth, that one aunt
needed her, while the other did not
Work, none too we'll paid, came to the |
little cottage, and the household duties
uara shored while Mrs Vast cou1d kaaY,