The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1897-08-20

| btu, Oredl HlnS le4NilS, ms eyes closed.
| One glance at his face showed Inc that
he had not many hours to live. His
last roIlcall would soon be called and
he must answer.
He was in haIf-sleep, half-stupor:
| did what l could, then took my
place by his side; | could not leave
this young child alone with d dying
man. | thought it right to tell her the
truth, and then she burst into passion
ate weeping.
lie is your only friend-t this your
! only home-is it not soE" | said, com
| passiOnately.
Yes. But it is not that; it is the
| losing him. He has strange ways, but
he has been very-very good to me. :"
| Nora was one of those women who, as
"Ouidan says, have dogs natures
! Her grief was unselfish and genuine
! for hun who might have been kinder.
| asked her if she knew where his
relations lived, and whether they
| should be informed. | noticed she
! shuddered at any mention of them,
but replied promptly that she wished
| it. 1t was best that they should be
| there. What might they not say if
they were not? Poor child; it was
easy to see she was frightened of them,
| but | trusted her uncle had placed
| her beyond reach of their Jealous
| spite.
Two hours later old Captain Carew
| showed signs of consciousness.
| knew the end was very near, and sum
moned Nora. Just then his eyes op-
ened and rested OH her;they were dim,
but an anxious, strained expression
was in them-his lips moved.
He wishes to speak," said, but
the girl, overcome, had sunk on her
knees by the bed, and, weeping, was
kissing the already ciay-cold hand.
! Old Captain Carew's eyes were
turned quickly on me irritably, the
white lips twitched. bent my head
! to them.
Speak" l said; Il listened "
| Nora came the faint sounds.
"March-eyes front-Ieft fortnight
a dozen--half- heel-the-the-n
The voice failed. uuivering gasp,
and old Captain Carew had marched
as n soldier into eternity.
Raising poor Nora, | carried her
from the room and summoned my
servant: then | did all | could
The next day. no doubt, the rela-
tions would arrive, and l should be
needed no longer. | wished Nora to
go to my house and | would remain
at the cottage; but she would not
leave her uncle, so | left my servant
with her and went home alone Bat
| got little rest. All night | tossed
from side to side, feeling anxious
about Nora, hoping the captain, rich
or poor, had made it all right for her,
and often thinking of those last words
how the soldier had been strong in
| the old man to the last.
| The next morning the relations ar
rived and took literal possession.
called, apparently from civility, really
| anxious about their behavior TO Nora
Carew. saw nothing of her, and was
speedily shown that my presence was
not wanted.
| They were upstart, inSolent peo-
pie, who evidently thought that they
| had been, or were in danger of being,
| cheated aud defrauded, and my heart
bled tor Nora.
Still, | reflected, las took my leave,
IF the old captain ha, made it right
for her i'll his Will, she can soon have
done with them"
All day l saw nothing of Nora Carew
though purposely | passed the gar
den frequently. | told myself that il
was compassion which made me so
anxious.
After dusk, however, as | was re-
turning home, she came swiftly across
the garden towards the fence, having
evidently been watching for me-
"Oh, they are so cruel, so unkind, -
she ans wered, III reply to my interro-
cations, they suspect every body.
They are turning out all the drawers
they have no respect for him-poor
poor dear -
And she began sobbing bitterly.
| tried to soothe her, more touched
than | confessed. Suddenly taking
nv hand, she kissed it fervently, say
ing:
oh. Dr. Fermagb, but for your
kindness, think l should die; and
what would it matter to anyone if |
did,
There is at times something electri-
cal in the touch of a womans lips.
4 thrill passed through my frame
and | began to look Oh Nora Carew as
had not before. | had craving to
he her friend indeed. | tried in every
wav to comfort her before nervously
she ran back to the cottage fearful of
being seen.
went home, well aware why they
were rummaging the cottage. 1t was
to find the will.
When they do" thought, may
it burn their fingers"
But it soon got known, to my deep
distress, that there was no will. Every
corner had been turned out to no
nurpose. There was no will, and the
relations were heirs-atlaw.
poor Moral muttered, shell
have to be dependent upon their
bounty.
But there was worse discovered.
Save a couple OF hundred in the coun-
tv bank, there was no property be
vond the furniture.
What will they do for herr" |
thought, in distress. surely some
thing"
Thus stood matters when the fune
raj took place. An hour after it, was
in my sitting-room, when my servant
ushered in Nora Carew.
Her face was pale with grief. / new
er had thought her so pretty and
graceful. Taking her hands, led her
to II seat, when she said, her voice
tremulous:
| Ut. eFludSH, pIedSe excuse III
coming, but | could not go without
saying goodbye and thanking you
"Going away A chill crept over
me. Are you going with your rela
tions, Miss Carew?n
with them, she raised her beauti-
full eyes in surprise "Oh, no; they
are not my relations. | am glad OF
that at least. cannot remain there
They will have nothing to do witt
me-
Then cried, where are yor
going"
She bowed her head and burst into
tears. Finally she was able to tell me
, that she was going to stay with al
old woman who had been a servant tC
the captain before Nora came. Sh,
lived in "a town six miles distant, hu
had walked over to pay last trIbut,
to her old master, and had offered TIL,
poor girl shelter till she could fine
something to do.
when she ended her mournful tale
| walked in silence from her to tin
window, and stood there awhile. Thei
| came back, took her poor cold hand
in mine, and said:
Nora, will you accept my home 70
: your home? viii you be my littl
| wife,"
i She raised her head; and oh! tn