The daily morning journal and courier., 1896-01-07

VOlC6 peLOfe, ana 4OOkeu uHtO lHOSe gray eyes now tearfully raised to hers?
 In spite of the shabby, ill-fltting gar ments, a keen observer could distiu- guish an unmistakable air of refine ment written on the pale little face, and involuntarily a vague memory of her sister rose before Alice Langdon S mind.
 That sister had long been as one dead to her, for ten years ago she had sud denly disappeared, having contracted clandestine marriage with q man whom the aunt who had adopted the mother less girls looked upon as utterly unwor- thy of her neice This misalliance had been 8 terrible grief to Mrs, Langdon, and Alice, a child at the, time, too young to appreciate the situation, mo- ticed a great change in her once amia- ble aunt. She soon learned by experi- ence that any mention of her older sis ter's name brought a stern expression to her aunt's face, and called forth a cold command to forget her. Thus dis couraged, a child of ten is not apt to retain vivid memory very long, and gradually Alice came to accept the be- lief that her sister was dead, and life had moved quietly on in its old grooves.
 But now by this unexpected rencon- tre the smooth currents of Lethe were suddenly rufiled from their calm.
 Alice broke a pause by saying kindly: What is your name, little girl?'
 Marion" said the child, simply
 The reply caused Alices heart to beat more quickly for was it not her sisters name?
 But, no-she would not allow herself to be disturbed by what might prove to be mere coincidence. Thus quieting the hopes and fears that surged I through her heart she said quickly: Come Marion. I will go home with you, for your mother will be growing anxious
 Together they left the church, and following Marion's direction, a car soon conveyed them to a. poorer part of the city. Leaving the car, the child led the way to a small frame house, which she explained was where they boarded.
 With child's utter disregard of the possible effect of a strangers sudden I appearance in the sick room, she con- ducted her companion directly to her
 
 mothers room.
 Alice herself was 1oo-much absorbed in lifting the veil from the half forgot ten incidences of her childhood to req lize where the child was taking her. As one in a dream, she ascended the stairs mechanically dimly conscious of their dirty, dilapidated condition.
 Meanwhile the mother, weary and worn by her long illness, lay in that uncertain state between consciousness and sleep, awaiting her little daugh- ters return. She was thinking mourn fully of the parting which was drawing i inevitably near, and of the time when she must leave her child to the mercies of a cold world.
 The day had been a sad, weary one for her, and her mind had dwelt with a 1 strange persistence on the happy days of her girlhood. The bright and joy ous times attending Christmas in those days made her present surroundings 1 seem all the more desolate, for is not Sorrows crown of sorrow remember ing happier things?"
 l Her revery of the past was interrupt ed by the sound of approaching foot steps, and a. moment later the door was opened and Marion came running in, exclaiming: "Oh, Mama! Here's Miss Langdon who =" But she did not finish, for the pale face on the pillow was turned suddenly toward the figure in the doorway. Stretching out her arms she cried in a tone of amaze ment: t'Afice-i9
 With a swift, impulsive movement Alice reached the bedside, and, drop ping on her knees beside it, clasped the wasted hand in hers, no longer in doubt that it was indeed her. sister.
 At first only broken words came from each, but finally an exclamation from little Marion brought them back to a realization. of their outward surround ings. and Alice drew the child to her. Softly caressing the auburn hair, SO like the older Marions, she said:
 You are my own dear little niece" Marion's eyes opened wide in astonish- ment too deep for words.
 With the omnibus hectic flush glow ing in her cheeks, the mother told, in a few words, the simple yet pitiful story which served to explain many things mysterious and perplexing to Alice. l After the child had been sent down stairs on one of those errands so con- venient when little peoples presence is detrop, her mother talked more freely, saying:
 After Aunt James harsh and relant- less behavior I determined I would nev- CT let her hear from me again. Upon our marriage we went directly to the far west and lived in pioneer fashion. i The exposure and hardships which I endured there laid the foundation of this terrible disease which is slowly but surely wearing my life away. When Marion was six years old, not having met with the success we anticipated, we moved to Washington in hopes of i obtaining a government position for my husband; but never dreamed of 1 finding you here. Poor Edgar, whom I had once loved passionately sank un- der the accumulation of trouble and disappointment, and grew deeply in volved in debt. 70, Alice" with burst of tears, you little know the agonies of singing poverty"
 ''Poor Marion,' said Alice, softly, her own tears flowing in sympathy. Thus the unhappy man had sought employment in vain till his death two years ago.
 ] Since then the poor wife had strug-