Fort Worth weekly gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1889-07-11
CHAPTER V.
AUNT - 10 4 JOE

Mrs. Venderveer, Grace and Jack were
to be found as they sat at a little table
in the supper room pretending to eat
sundry minute portions of chicken salad,
but really too full of contentment to do
more than laugh and talk nonsense.
81 wonder papa has not come yet, -
said grace. che promised me faithfully
that ne would look in as early as he
could. But / suppose he has gone on one
of those horr1d walks Of his. You know
he always complains that he does not get
exercise enough in New York, and he
sets off on long tramps at all sorts of I'M
earthly hours, and there is never any
counting on his returning at reasonable
time
81 wish he would come, - said Jack,
with q laugh, 81 want to be put out of nay
misery at once. What do you think ne II
say when I tell him 1 want to steal his
daughter?
efPoor papa. I'm sure he'll be sorry
TO lose me, but think he is fond Of you
in his way, Jack. -
"Weu perhaps in his way he is,
said Jack, but to tell the truth 1 am
rather inclined to funk the coming inter
view. -
'Now, - broke in Aunt Jane, elf
must tell you young people what 1 had
much better keep to myself, don t
think you need worry yourselves bit
about what MIR. Nugent viii say. Mr..
Nugeut is a man Of most excellent COM
mon sense, and though he may be in
clined to say hard things about pou, sir,
because you insist on doing nothing or
next TO nothing instead of going into
business, he viii welcome any nephew of
mine into his family. TO tell you the
truth, he and have talked this matter
over before now, for though we are old
we are not blind, and we fOresaw very
clearly what was coming and hal re-
signed ourselves TO the inevitable. At
this Grace and Jack looked amazingly
surprised, and the former dashed very
prettily.
Grace was to sleep that night at Mrs.
Vanderveer' 3 house, AID so when the
trio had finished their supper and still
Mr.. Nugent die not appear, the old lady
declared she was too tired 10 remain any
longer, and that Grace had better come
home at once, sOciack carefully packed
Thorn into the b bugham and accepted
his aunt 5 invitation to squeeze in with
them and have a cup of bouillon her but
- ler always had waiting for her when she
arrived home from any function, be-
fore he could turn into his own cherries
bachelor quarters. Jack was not averse
to the proposition, for it gave him few
minutes more with the object Of his afIec-
tons, and though the brougham was
much to small TO comfortably receive
tins addition to its occupants, he bravely
bore all resulting discomfort in view of
fbe foot that he gDIl6 hold = LITTLE warm
hand in his and whisper into a pink little
ear certain scraps Of nonsense, which
proceeding Aunt Jane strained her con-
science somewhat by affecting not to OBJ
serve.
When they had reached the dingy old
house and were sitting in the rather
funeralhy furnished dining room slipping
the hot bouillon served IN delicate old
china cups which had belonged to Jack S
great grandmother, and Grace and Jack
st least trying hard TO look as though
they liked the potion, Aunt Jane, who
had been looking uncommOnly serious,
broke silence by observing:
you look the image OF your father,
my DEAR and she sighed somewhat
deeply.
81 hope that isn't what makes you
look so solemn, Aunt Jane.
young people like you | once knew; and
as there is a moral TO be drawn from their
story think II tell it TO you. 1t was q
great many years ago, when l never
thought 1 should be the aunt of a great
big fellow like you, Jack-that q dear
friend of mine married q girl almost as
pretty and quite as good as Grace, dear.
We all thought when they married that
no two people ever had such bright pros
poets of happiness as lay before this |
couple, and some of us may have envied |
them a little bit. But we were mistaken. |
Out Of the clear sky came the thunder
clap, and one day the husband-I'ye !
told you that he was my very dear
friend-came TO me and told me that
his wife no longer loved him, that, in
deed, she loved and had sinned with |
another man, and that he was going that |
very night to travel he knew not where, |
never TO return.
- tried to persuade him that there |
must be some awful mistake; but he |
was obstinate and 1 could not reason |
with him. and a few hours later he had /
left his wife, his home and his friends /
forever. Next day ! went to see the |
wife, whom ] found heartbroken and al |
most dying from the shock. She very |
soon convinced me that her husband had |
been the FlCJlI0 OF wicked IOrger WHOm I
she never found out, and Of q series of |
unfortunate misunderstanding, and |
that she was as pure and devoted to him |
SIS on the day she stood at the altar. I /
comfoTted her as best could; a story of |
urgent business was concocted to ac- |
count FOR her husbands depart .
ure, and after writing to him |
letter which must individually /
have explained away "a all his |
doubts we waited as women always do /
wait, for his return. Months passed and /
no answer came. The young wife found |
herself likely TO become a mother and 1 /
wrote this also, though without her /
knowledge, to the wsnderer whose |
whereabouts l only knew. This time an /
answer cid come, only it was addressed /
% her anu not 10 me. IN q few curt, /
cruel sentences, he disowned her and the /
child which was TO be born, and told her |
.sbe should never see his face again. /
sFnat letter was her death warrant. She /
d lied IN q few weeks after, but before her /
. - ath she give birth to son who has /
an 5 never known either father or /
sd ther, but has had to take in their