The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-11-26


with the same strong confidence, the
same everything hope. Few of them, she
. acknowledged to herself now, had pos
. sesssd half the likelihood Of this: and
every new point of gertrude grew and
expanded within her as she proceeded on
. her way. The same age the same name
/ more or less, a likeness which Gilchrist,
fool that she was, would not see; and then
I the story, proving everything Of the
mother who was alive and unknown.
Could anything be more certain? Miss
! Bethune's progress through the streets
was more like that of a bird on the wind,
I with that floating movement which is so
! full at once of strength and of repose, and
I wings ever ready for a swift coup to in
/ crease the impulse and clear the way
I than of a pedestrian walking along a hot
! pavement. A strange coincidence! Yes,
I il would be very strange coincidence if
[ her own very unusual story and that Of
/ the poor Mannerings should thus be
! twined together But why should it not
! be so2 Truth is stranger than fiction.
/ The most marvellous combinations hap
/ pen every day. The stranger things are,
| the more likely they are TO happen. This
was what she kept saying to herself as
/ she hurried upon her way.
/ She was received in the darkened room,
| in the hot atmosphere perfumed and
| damped by the spray of some essence,
! could scracely breathe. When she was
| brought in, in the CLEAN of light made by
the opened door, there was a little scream
! of eagerness from the bed at the other
end of the long room, and then a cry !;
But Dorai Where is Dora? 1t is Dora,
! Dora, | want" in a voice of disappolnt-
ment and irritation close to tears.
You must not be vexed that l came
| first by myself, Miss Bethune said. ITO
bring Dora without her fathers knowl-
edge is strong STEP
But | have a right have a right -
cried the sick woman. ''Nobody-not
| even he-would deny me a sight Of her
I've hungered for years for sight of her,
! and now | am free l am going to die"
mo, no! don't say that" said Miss
Bethune, with the natural instinct of deny
ing that conclusion. you must not
let your heart go down, for that is the
worst of all. "
1T is perhaps the best, toe" said the
patient. What could 1 have done? AL
ways longing for her never able to have
her except by stealth, frightened always
that she would find out, or that he should
find out Oh. no, it's better as it is. Now
can provide for my dear, and nobody to
say a word Now | can show her how
love her. And she will not Judge me. A
child like that doesn't Judge. She will
learn to pity her poor, poor-Oh, why
didn't you bring me my Dora2 ] may not
live another day
In the darkness, to which her eyes
gradually became accustomed, Miss Be
thune consulted silently with a look the
attendant by the bed, and receiving from
her the slight, scarcely distingushable
answer of a shake of the head, took the
sufferers hand and pressed it in her own
Il will bring her." she said. tonight,
if you wish it, or tomorrow. l give you
my word If you think of yourself like
that, whether you are right or not, l am
not the one to disappoint you. Tonight,
if you wish it"
ooh, tonight, tonight! I'll surely live
till tonight, the poor woman cried.
And many nights more, if you will
only keep quite quiet, ma'am. 1t depends
upon yourself said the maid.
They always tell you" said Mrs. Bris-
towe, Ito keep quiet, as if that was the
easiest thing to do. / might get up and
walk all the long way to see my child :;
but TO be quiet without her-that is what
is impossible-and knowing that perhaps
l may never see her again!"
you shall-you SHALL said Miss Be
thune, soothingly. But you have a
child, and good child-a son, or as like
a son as possible"
Il a SOM Oh, no, no-none but Dora
No one ! love but Dora" The poor lady
paused then with sob, and said in a
changed voice, You mean Harry Gordon2
Oh, it is easy to see you are not a mother
He is very good-oh, very good. He was
adopted by Mr. Bristowe. Oh she cried,
with long crying breath, Mr.. Bristowe
ought TO have done something for Harry
He ought to- always said so. did not
want to have everything left to me"
She wruug her thin hands. and a con
vulsive sob came out of the darkness.
Ma am, said the maid, Il must send
| this lady away, and put a stop to every
| thing, if you get agitated like this"
"rll be quite calm, Miller-quite calm, -"
| the patient cried. putting out her hand
| and clutching Miss Bethune's dress.
To keep her calm, ] will talk to her of
! this other subject" said Miss Bethune,
with an injured tone in her voice. She
| held her head high, elevating her spare
| figure. as if in disdain. Let us forget
| Dora for the moment she said, and
| speak of this young man that has only
| been son to you for the most of his life
| only given you his affection and his ser
| vices and everything child could do, but
| is nothing, of course, in comparison with
a little girl you know nothing about, who
is your niece in blood
"Oh, my niece, my Meet the poor
| lady murmured under her breath.
Tell me something about this Harry
| Gordon, it will let your mind down from
| the more exciting subject said Miss
| Bethune still with great dignity, as if of
! an offended person. He had lived with
| you for years. He has shared your Sc
! crets. ="
- have talked to him about Dora" she
| faltered.
But yet" said the stern CUES
TONER, more and more severely, ut does
not seem you have cared anything about
| him all these years."
"Oh, don't say that! I have always
been fond of him, always-always He
| will never say I have not been kind to
| him." the invalid cried.
"Kind2" cried Miss Bethume, with an
indignation and scorn which nothing
| could exceed. Then she added more gen
| tly, but with still the injured tone in her
voice. "Will you tell me something
! about him. 1t will calm you down l
take an interest in the young man. He is
| like somebody l once knew, and his name
| recalls
Perhaps you knew his fatherl" said
| Mrs. Bristowe
! Perhaps. would like to hear more
! particulars. He tells me his mother is
! living"
The father was very foolish to tell
| him. MIR. Bristowe always said so. It
was on his death bed. I suppose" cried
the poor lady with a deep sigh, that on
| your deathbed you feel that you must tell
U Al