Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1886-08-20


clothe them without debt. Marian
had never owned, even Tor
every best,p such dresses as Tina
belmont wore for everyday walks.
Tina's father lived in pretentlous
house, kept a carriage, had a con-
servatory, and was lavish in ex-
penditures to crafty his only child,
and vet Frank Bradshaw had pass
ed by Tina's great black eyes, her
rustling silks and glittering jewels
to seek Marian's love.
He had come to Keyport from
New York, where he had lived
from boyhood, and he was not ac-
customed to the curiosity and pry-
| ing of small towns. Totally un-
aware that his movements we're
exciting comment or speculation,
he busted himself in arranging his
uncle's estate to suit his own con-
venience, giving his leisure time to
| Marian and the mysterious oc-
cupants of the cottage.
1t was late on the afternoon after
| Tina's call that Hester came to
| Marian's room to tell her that
| Frank had called to take her for a
drive.
"Take shawl, Marian" said the
careful elder sister; "the evenings
ara growing cold. And, Marian,"
she added, drawing her sister into
close embrace, "trust him. | can
not believe there is any wrong
hidden behind his honest, good
face.'
81 will trust him. Marian said.
"In his own good time he will tell
we what it is best for me to know"
So the face that greeted Frank
was as bright and unclonded as
the sky above their heads, and
| Marian chatted as pleasantly as II
the little cottage at the foot of
Myrtle Hill had never cost her a
thought.
But Franks "good time for tell
| ing his secret was nearer than she
thought. They were driving slow
| ly through long stretch of shady
road, when he said:
"Marian, could you do something
very painful to your feelings for
my sakep
81 think | could, Frank"
81 must tell you something about
myself first. | was not always the
rich man you have known, Marian.
When my parents died, | was a lad
of twelve years only, and my whole
fortune lay in my robust health and
an average supply of brains. But
/ was ambitious and willing to
work, and entered a large
dry. goods store as errand boy,
gradually working my way
to a clerkship, where | was when
nv uncle died and left me indepen-
dent. But in the years Of poverty
and toll, Marian, my fathers broth
or gave me no aid from his full
purse, and | inherit his fortune on
| ly because he died without a will,
and his nearest relative, his only
brothers only child. 1t was from
my mothers sister, a widow poor
as myself, that my boyhood had
! loving care and tenderness. My
aunt Clara, a widow with one child,
supported herself by sewing, but
she gave me room in her tiny
house, shared her scanty food with
me, taught me after l was obliged
, to leave school, and gave me as
fender care as she gave her own
5 daughter, Minnie.
81 repaid her love by my owl
sincere affection, and, as ! grew
older, tried to fill sons place tt
y her, a brothers. to Minnie. W.
. were happy IN spite of our poverty
until a year ago, when terrible
misfortune fell upon us. My aunt
o little house, all she could call he
y own in the world, caught fire, ant
o was totally destroyed with every
0 thing it contained. Worst of all
" Aunt Clara herself, in trying +
y save some of her clothing, was hoI
ribly burned about the neck, arm
" and face. For several months sh
" lay in the hospital, suffering toI
lures, but she recovered at last
- most dreadfully disfgured for life
y ave we're all boarding in NeV
- York when the news of my uncle
o death reached me, and | came t
10 Keyport. 1t took me some week
" to prove my claims, to take posses
- sion OF my Inheritance, but as 500
!" as my hands were free | was AM
ious to have my aunt share m
prosperity. ! wrote to her, urgin
t. her by every loving word at m
q command to share my home, tellin
8, her of your gentleness, Marian, an
10 my hope of winning your love fC
it her as well as my own. She al
swered me, refusing my offer. He
n. terrible misfortune has made he
IS morbidly anxious to avoid stral
to gers, and in my home she was SUI
d. to meet him.
nd "Tf,' she wrote, you would civ
N me tiny cottage, where | coul
ba hear the sea, and get the pure al
~ without meeting strangers. woul
10 come, but not to your grand hous
10, Frank"
in "Upon this hint | acted. ha
ny such cottage of my own, and
n L .o..A "a Noru Va,