Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1890-06-26

made aware that you were NV son: and
see, this, this is your mother!f
1t is true, Noel" murmured Mrs.
Marlowe, with loving but somewhat
shame-faced look. -Oh, my son, my
own child! can you forgive the deception
lhaye been privy TO during all these
years, when you learn it was all meant
for your own good, though it rended my
heart-strings to part from your Your
real name is Cuthbert Marlowe-or as
such you were christened.
Il took you and Gilbert little son, Noel,
who was of nearly one age with you, to
Penzance, when you were little more than
infants, for your health. While there
you were both dreadfully i'll, and the lit
tie Noel died, while you recovered. II
was then that listened to Gilbert Mar
loves proposition that you should be
brought up as his own, while the dead
child should be buried under your name.
L yielded in this because / saw that he
would, indeed, transfer his fatherliness
wholly to you, and bring you up in luxury
and elegance; while, at the same time, 1
had forebodings that his insane persist
ency in pursuing me with his unwelcome
attentions, under the belief that your
father had died in foreign land, must
eventually drive me away into life of
struggle, perhaps of privation, in which l
had not the heart-much as the thought
of separation tortured ito mingle your
sweet young fate.
So it turned out was ere long COM
PEELED to fee, to seek relief from perse.
eution in the obscurity of London, and
you were reared and educated as the Noel
who had passed away forever.
oh, Cuthbert, my son! Can you not
guess my object in sending Harriet Loop
hitherH 1t was not revenge, it was long
ing mother's-love for you, that inspired
the stratagem. Since then she has kept
me secretly apprised of your welfare,
weekly, and often daily. Often, when a
child, you have visited me in her COM
pany, at my shop in London, without sus-
pecting that it was your own mother who
was so devouring you with kisses, and
was ever at last SO loath to let you go
again"
Am dreaming?" muttered the young
man, who felt indeed in a strangely un-
real condition; while Gwendoline was
silently weeping at his side. "Yes,
seem to have recollection of such visits,
and of those kisses and embraces"
Then his eyes wandered from his
mother to the banker, with an inquiring
look.
"She says truly" growled Gilbert Mar
lowe, who, together with Croak, was
stolidly undergoing the operation of
Handwriting at the hands of Mr.. Dali
housie.
Il have tried to bring you up worthily,
but you are not my son Noel-you are
their son Cuthbert. Can't you run us out
of this scene, curse your" he fercely
added, turning upon the detective, with
an oath. Isn't there enough misery in
store for me, that you must heap it on to
me here?"
Cuthbert Marlowe, as we must now
call him, lowered his eyes, and, with his
breast laboring with contending emo
tions, in which sorrow and pity for the
wretch whom he had SO long called
father were perhaps uppermost, drew
back shudderingly as the prisoners were
silently led away.
Then, turning and seeing his mothers
hands outstretched imploringly to him,
he threw himself at her feet with great,
joyful cry.
1t was then his father who raised him
up, and, after embracing him. linked his
youthful hand with the weeping Gwendo-
lines.
+You deserve to be happy together. and
/ know you will be-" cried Jasper.
Hasten now together, hand in hand, to
convey the joyous tidings to Mr.. Alworth.
GLADDEN. his old heart with the news that
he has come to his own again, and that
Jasmine Lodge is once again to be his
cherished homel"