The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1891-12-18


ished it upon her sisters son, who owed
to her his education and handsome in
come, already settled upon him.
81 cannot bear to feel that you are
waiting for me to died, that you may be
independent" the old lady said when she
settled large sum upon her nephew.
A year had passed, a year of happiness
for both, since Mrs. Emerson had met
Alice Ward, and there was still between
them the strongest love. But the old
lady was not yet quite satisfied. Uni
formly cheerful, gentle and loving, Alice
could not entirely conceal from her en-
plOyer and friend that there was a
shadow upon her life that even the pres
ent happiness had not lifted. The con-
fidence long withheld came quite unex-
pected at last.
Alice was in her own room, adjoining
Mrs. Emerson's, busted with some let
tiers, and did not know she was not alone.
Mrs. Emerson, who had come in to ask
some tritling question, saw her take from
her desk photograph, and as she looked
at it tears rolled down her cheeks, until,
with an impatient look of scorn at her
own weakness, she suddenly tore it in
two and threw it upon the floor. One
piece, the face portrayed upon it, flut-
tered to Mrs. Emersons feet. Her own
face was very white, as she lifted 1t say
ing:
"Who is this, Alice? Why have you
torn it?''
"He was a coward, traitor!" the girl
said quickly.
''To you?"
eyes! Oh, am so sorry you saw me,
Mrs. Emerson. 1t is all over, long ago."
But there was choking sob in her
voice as she spoke.
'Tell me about it, dear. Perhaps it
will take away some of the heartache to
speak of it."
sit was before my father died. He
came to Hopeville, and-and, oh, Mrs.
Emerson, he did make me believe he
loved me! cannot see that l was un-
maidenly in any way; but l loved him
with my whole heart, when he had tried
to win it in thousand ways-not before
His name was Walter Hutchinson"
81 know you well enough to be sure of
that" was the gentle reply.
81 thought he would speak to papa;
but one day, when we were walking to-
gether, he told me he dared not ask me
to be his wife, because he would offend
his aunt, who was anxious 20 have him
marry rich, fashionable girl"
"Oh! He was fond, then, of his
aunt?"
II do not think so. He always spoke
of her money as far more important than
herself. think she could not have been
very lovable person, because once she
had very sudden dangerous attack of
illness that called him away for week,
and when he came back he seemed quite
| disappointed that she had not died. |
remember, when asked him how she
was, he said: Oh confOund her, she'll
keep her money-bags to herself forever,
believe. thought was sure of them
this time"
''Waslit this ogress of, an aunt who
prevented his making you his wife?'
$50 he said. And don't think that l
wanted to marry him after l knew that
he was not manly enough to make his
own fortune. But-but did love him!"
and then tears dropped again over the
lost dream.
You were fortunate to lose him. He
was, as you say, coward and traitor!"
Never had Alice heard Mrs. Emersons
voice so stern, seen her eyes flash so an
grily. 1t has has been part of the old
lady's castle building to conceal from
her young protegee the very existence of
her dearly loved nephew. She had put
away his picture, had sent her letters to
mail by her maid, had never mentioned
his name. She had believed if these two
met unrrepared, they must love each
other, and had omitted all mention of
Alice in her letters, for the same reason
that she kept her in ignorance of his ex-
istence.
And now, where no shadow of doubt
could fall upon the story, she learned at
what value this idolized nephew held
her love, what gratitude her lifelong in
diligence had won.
1t hurt her pride too sorely for her to
take Alice into her confidence; but in
many subsequent conversations she drew
from her more fully the story of the
summer Walter Hutchinson had spent at
HOpeville, the persistent wooing by
which he had won a pure, innocent
heart, only to throw it aside.
1t might be that when Alice was older
and her present secluded life was
changed for one where she saw more of
society, her heart would find resting
place in more worthy love. But there
had been but one hero in her past, and
the wound his want of faith and honor
had left was deep and lasting.
Six months later Walter Hutchinson
was speeding across the Atlantic to take
possession of the inheritance for which
his sordid soul had most impatiently
waited. A spendthrift, gambler and
utterly reckless, he had never made his
handsome income meet his expenditures,
and his debts, incurred upon the expec-
tation of his aunt's fortune being his