The Press., 1886-09-23

Myrtle Hill had never cost her thought.
 But Franks ssgood time" for telling his secret was neafef than she thought. They
 were diving slowly through 3 long stretch Of shady road, when he said
 ssssM Harlan. could you do something very
 painful to your feelings for my sake ?"
 ssI think Iscould, Frank 4
 TT must tell you something about my self first was not always the rich man you have known, Marian. When my par l ents lied Twas lad of twelve years only, I and my whole fortune lay in my robust health and an average supply of brains.
 But was ambitious and willing to work,
 and entered large dry goods store as er
 rand boy, gradually working my way to 8 Iclerkship, where IT was when my uncle
 died and left me Independent. But ill the
 years of poverty and toil, Marian, my
 fathers brother gave me no aid from hls l full purse, and inherit his fortune only
 because he died without will, and am 5 his nearest relative, hIs only brothers only I child. It was from my mothers sister, 8 widow poor as myself, that my boyhood
 had loving care and tenderness: My aunt Clara, widow, with one child, supported herself by sewing, ,bnt she gave me a room Einher tiny house. shared her scanty food ! with me, taught me after was obliged to lleave school, aud gave me as tender care
 as she gave her own daughter, Minnie.
 1tsI repaid her love by my own sincere Eaffection, and, as I grew older, tlied to fill Ia son 'si place to her, . brothers to Minnie. t We. were happy in spite of our poverty, funtif year ago, when terrible misfor-
 tune fell upon us. My annt's little house, lallf she could call her own in the world, } caught fire, and was totally destroyed with everything it contained, Worst of all, Aunt Clara herself; in trying to save some lof her clothing was horribly burned about 'l the meek, :, arms and face. For severa } mouths she lay in the hospital, suffering ' tOrtufes, but she recovered at last, most dreadfully dishgured for life.
 , We were all boarding in New York wher : the news of my uncle's death reached me
 and came to Newport It took me some weeks to prove my claims, to take posses } sion of my inheritance, but soon as my hands were free was anxious to have my aunt share my prosperity. wrote to her urging her by every loving word at mI command to share my home, telling her O . your gentleness, Marian, and my hope O i, winning your love for her as we'll as my ], own. She answered me, refusing my of 3 fer. Her terrible misfortune has made he morbidly anxious to avoid strangers, anC
 in my home she was sure to meet them. 'If,' she wrote, you could give me 1
 tiny cottage, where could hear the sea , and get the pure air, without meeting
 lstrangers, I would come, but not to you 3 grand house, Frank
 5 Upon this hint I acted. I had such l cottage of my own, and it was empty.
 sent to New York for paperers, upholster
 CTS and painters, and had the house made r as pretty as possible. Then coaxeC 3 again, and this time more successfully, fo s Aunt Clara and Minnie, with old Hannah r their servant, came to take possession. Since they have been here have triet ] to alleviate Aunt Clara's suffering by ever, !, means in my power. She is fond of music 8 and Minnie has fine piano to touch fo B her. She loves books and flowers, and , send them to her daily. But not until to ] day have been able to overcome her nor ] bid desire for seclusion, so far as to obtail : leave to bring you to call. Only this morn t ing I pleaded in vain, but this afternoon n she sent me little note asking me tC r bring you to see her.
 Will you go, Marian? You will see ] face that will shock you by it's dreadful 8 scars, but you will find heart of pur' t gold under the frightful mask. And vii t you be 8 sister to Minnie for my sake