The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-08-17

given up the search in this direction alt y
gether. Whel snail We gOi Is there time
to-dayT'
"Oh, yes. think 20. We will 90 into a
pastry cooks and get some lunch, and then
will be off,"
Half an hour later they had arranged
with the driver of a carriage TO take them
to Alnwick. twas a long journey, for the
roads were billy, and the Bath drivers do
not hurry their horses. Robert Harbut
chatted with Madame Duport, for Con-
stance was too excited and anxious to join
in the conversation.
This is Alnwick," the driver said, turn.
ing round on his box as they entered a vii.
lage. where shall take you, sirg'
ITO the Rectory."
As they drove up to the door, Robert
Harbut said:
Il think had better do the talking. Miss
Corbyn."
Constance nodded. She was too anxious
to speak The barrister handed his card to
the servant aud said he wished for few
minutes conversation with the rector.
They were shown into the drawlng-room
and a minute later the rector entered, and
Robert Harbut saw with satisfaction that
he was a man of some 65 years old.
"We have called, sir" he began, ito ask
you if you can give us any information
cell. He was. believe. schoolmaster
here.
He was" the rector replied. HE and
his wife both died some eight years ago."
AS he spoke he glanced earnestly at the
two ladies.
eve have reason to believe" Mr.. Harbut
went on, that this young lady is their
granddaughter.
''Is her mother dead" the clergyman
asked quickly.
''She died some seventeen years ago, after
giving birth to her child"
II was afraid so. Her last
letter TO her mother said that
she was expecting to be confined
shortly, and that she hoped that ere very
long she should return with her husband
and child. They never heard from her
again, and their belief, as we'll as my own,
was that she must have died about that
time. / was very much interested" he went
on, turning to Constance, Sin your mothers
fate. She was my principal assistant in the
Sunday school, and was girl of excellent
principles and disposition. | was SO con-
WINGED of this that l was able to agree cor
daily with her parents in their belief in the
statements in her letters, that she was mar
ried. OF course she was sadly, terribly to
blame in leaving home in the way she did,
and in suffering herself to be persuaded by
eOUlt- anu Iuou EollicIlOeIluk LudC Jtl6
man of whom he was about to speak harShly
was the father of the girl to whom he was
speaking, he stopped.
do you know who my father was, sir 81
Constance asked a low voice.
do you not knowp the clergyman an
swered in surprise. mo. Your grand
father and grandmother had no idea what.
ever. They were inclined to believe at first
that it must be somebody that she met in
London when she was staying there with al
aunt some time before But it came out
afterward that some of the village boy,
had once or twice seen her In the evenings
walking with a gentleman in quiet lane
half a mile away. Still, of course, she may
have made his acquaintance in town. HI
may have followed her here, but more thar
that we never ascer5ained.
~ may tell you your grandfather snC
grandmother always lived in hopes tina
your father would some day bring yoJ
| back to them 1t was possible, of course
that the child might have died as we'll as it,
mother, but they felt sure that if it liveC
sooner or later they would hear of it. They
never did hear, but upon his deathbed you
grandfather, who survived his wife but {
| few days, gave me a packet which h
begged me to deliver to his daughter.
child, should she ever return. suppose
sir" he said, turning to Mr.. Harbut, "yoI
can assure me that this young lady is really
the child of Constance Purcell"
81 can assure you Of that, sir" Madame
Duport said ''She died in my house.
i took the child from her arms, and hav,
| brought her up ever since"
Then l will give you the packet" the
clergyman said, and leaving the room, III
returned in q minute or two with a bulky
envelope, which he placed in Constance
hands. II am pleased indeed" he said
''that / am able to carry out the last w;she:
of my friend Purcell. Your grandfather
was a man of good education. He was the
son, he told me, of a city merchant, and
was educated at Oxford. His father died
Just as he left the university. He took tx
the business, for which he was altogether
untitled, and two or three years later failed
He had married the daughter Of clergy
man, and after years of struggle he at last
accepted the mastership of this village
school. The stipend was very small one,
but there was a comfortable cottage, and q
good garden attached to it, and he told me
that he had been perfectly contented and
happy until the flight of his daughter broke
up their home
Constance was pale and trembling.
~ thank you very much for what you
have told me-" she said, land for keeping
these papers for me.n
Then she glanced at Robert Harbut, who
understood what she would say.
"Thank you very much, sir. Now we
will take our leave; the young lady will, OF
course, be anxious to read these papers in
private. Should she find the clew to the
place of her parents marriage, you will GER
tainly hear of her again."
For some little time after taking their
seats in the carriage again, few words were
spoken.
Constance Corbyn was greatly moved,
and as she sat with her head bent down
Robert Harbut saw several tears fall on the
packet which she clasped in her hands.
- think, Miss Corbyn," he said at last
"that may congratulate you on the result
of your visit. We may not perhaps have
gained any material cew which would be
of assistance to US. but it cannot but be
gratifying for you to know the high estima-
ton in which your mother was regarded by
the clergyman of the village, and it is pleas
ing no doubt to he aware that her father
and mother were persons of good family
and education. 1t is weakness, perhaps,
but it is human nature
II am glad" she said. 81 had hardly
hoped to get so much news of my mother.
am very glad that came"
80 am l, Miss Corbyn; it is most salts
factory to me. You see, before had really
nothing but Madame Duports conviction,
that your mother was speaking the truth
when she said that a marriage had taken
place, to go upon. Now at least, though
legal proof may still be wanting, have
heard what may be considered as perfect