The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1891-04-23
AN uNcLR,s sunPRISE.

NV 1NN AAS q -
An elderly man, shabbily attircd, wa
seen walking through one of the fashion
able streets of a large city one cold Dc
cember day. His coat was of a coars
gray and had evidently seen herd service
The traveller walked slowly along exam
lining carefully, as he passed, the name
on the different dOOrplates. He final
paused before building of snowy eXte
riur, which if we may credit the testl
mOny of the plate upon the door, wa
occupied by Mr.. Alexander Beaumont.
Alexander Beaumont! Yes, that
the name" murmured the traveller t.
himself as he ascended the the steps ant
rang the bell.
! His summons was answered by
I fOotman, who, after n moments scru
tiny, said roughly: "Well, what do yo'
want?'
SIS Mr.. Beaumont at home?" asked thu
old man, without needing the intentiona
rudenesS.
'No: he is not"
''rhen perhaps can see his Wife"
81 think it is very doubtful; but vii
go and see."
The servant withdrew without asking
him to enter, although the day was very
cold, and his clothing seemed to bC
hardly sufficient to protect him from lt'
inclemency. Mrs. Beaumont was reclin
ing on sofa in n room handsomely fur
nished. The last new magazine was II
her hand, and her eyes were listlesslN
glancing over its pages. She was inter
rupted in her reading by the entrance OF
the servant.
"Well, what now?" she inquired OF
him.
"There is man downstairs who wants
to see you, maam."
'Man? A gentleman, you mean?"
'No ma'am," said Charles stoutly; "it
isn't gentleman AZ all, for he has got or
an old gray coat, and he has not any
gloves on"
"You didn't show him into the parlOr,
did you?'
The nan shook his head.
You did right, and you had better
tell him I'm not at home"
Mrs. Beaumont is not at home, said
Charles, reappearing at the door.
81 suppose that means she is engaged,
said the old man. | think she will see
me when she learns who | am. Tell hel
l am her husbands uncle and my name
is Henry Beaumont"
The man returned and delivered thC
message.
Good heavens!n said the mistress
ut amt that old fellow who strollcd of
years ago, nobody knows where. die
hope he never would come back again
And now | suppose he is as poor as a ra
and wants help Well, he won't get it il
| can help it, but | suppose ! must see
him."
She descended the stairs and received
him at the door.
"Are you Mrs. Beaumont" he in
quirCd.
Eyes, am the wife of Mr.. Beaumont
and l suppose from your language yol
are
''His Uncle Henry. All me! | hav
been gone so many years and it did m
good to return to my kindred"
The old mans features worked con
vulsvely as thoughts of the past cam
over his mind. Mrs. Beaumont stoO,
holding the door, as if waiting for him t,
depart. She did not give him any invi
tatiOn to enter
lis your husband weIl?n inquired tn
visitor, looking as if he expected
an invitation to enter and refresh him
self
He is. If you have any message fo
him you may leave it with me, and wi
deliver it," said Mrs. Beaumont.
"You may tell him have called" sal
the visitor, in q disappointed tone, IAN
that | would have liked to have see
him."
Il will tell him." said the lady, as sh
was about to close her door.
"Hold! There is one question more
What has become of AleXander's siste
Anna?n
81 don't know much about her." wa
the rather disdainful reply; "but thin
she married clerk or some such pei
son. His name is Lowe. and he lives i
Norton street; is that alp
"That is all
The old man turned his steps towar
the street indicated, with many fOrebOC
ings lest his second visit might be as III
welcome as the first.
"Charles," said Mrs. Beaumont, q
she closed the door, ''if that man come
again be sure and tell him | am not ;
home"
Norton street was not a fashiOnabI
street, nor was the two story bulldin
occupied by William Lowe either han'
some or costly. 1t was marked, howeve
by an air of neatness which indicate
that its tenants were not regardless {
appearance.
We will take the liberty of introducin
the eader to little sitting room, whel
Mrs. Lowe and her three children wei
seated. The furniture, though of kin
that would hardly be selected for a draw
! ing-room, had comfortable, homelil
appearance, which amply satisfied the d
sire of those who derived their happ
ness from higher and less mutual forC
than outside show. Mrs. Lowe was e.
gagged in an employment which
tabooed in all fashionable society-thi
ms, darning stockings. Emma, girl I
ten, was brushing the hearth. which IL
ashes from the CRATE, in which blaZin
fire was now burning. had somewh
disordered; while Mary, two yea
younger, was reading. Charley, lit
! rogue of five, who had a smiling ia,
which could not help looking roguis
was stroking the cat the wrong wa
much TO the disturbance Of poor Tabb
who had quietly settled herself down
pleasant dreams on the heartlrug. A
at once a loud knock was heard at Il
door,
Emma" said the mother, lyon mi
20 to the door and see who it is, ~
invite the person in, for it is u very co
day"
Emma Immediately oboyed her mot
er's directions.
rs Mrs. Lowe at homc?" iUquir
lHerry Beaumont, for it was he.
'Ycs sir" said Emma: ''plcase WA
inaId you may see her."
She ushcred the old mlu into the COZ
fort lblc sitting-mom, where Mrs. Lo'
rose to receive him.
81 believe" lie said, ''l'm not mistak
in thinking that yuur name before m;
riage was Anna Raym0TdY'
you are right, sir. That was n
name"
"And have you no recollection OF
unc'e that wandered away from hor
and friends, and from whom no tidln
have come for many years2"
Yes, sir, | remember him WELT
Unrle Henry-and / have many tim
wished | could hear something fro
him. Can you give me any inform
tion?'
~ cantor am he.n
"You, my uncle?" said Mrs. Lowe,