The record-union., 1897-04-11

faithful and obliged
JANE BELMONT"
A check for fl 900 dropped out of
this letter. and as Mrs. Maddenham,
stricken to the SOUL realized in one
burst James extraordinary munificence,
James remarkable usefulness. James
apparent adaptability, and James de
ceiving" firmness of character, despite
the silly smile,' she gave way to ac-
tual tears of rage and spite as she
thought that never, never more would
| the great house in Grosvenor Place be
open to her-never, never more would
she be able to invite her friends to
| luncheon or to dinner at James ex-
pense-never, never more would she
have the joy of advertising herself
through Jane and using Jane as a sort
of complacent and accomplishing
sandwich man." 1t was all over, And
for such a trif1ing cause, too, just the
mere oversight of not having intro
decd Jane at first to the royal person
ages who came to eat James food, 1t
was ridiculous-aggrava beyond
measure, Nevertheless. the fat had
gone forth-Jane had suddenly devel-
pped mulish obstinacy of disposition,
and Mrs. Maddenham's doom was
sealed She would have to find another
Jane to live upon: SO far as this pres
ent Jane was concerned, her career was
ended!
Meanwhile rUmor's many tongues got
hold of the story of what it was pleased
to call James ''scandalous conduct" It
was repeated from mouth to mouth.
with all sorts of eXaggerations and adj
ditions, till Jane became that vulgar
/ old Miss Belmont in one quarter. and
| that mad old Miss Belmont" in an
other The brilliancy of her parties
was forgotten. the kindnesses and lib
erality with which she treated all who
had freely ''sponged'' upon her was not
even thought of, and those who had
been most frequently the partakers9 of
her hospitality We're the first to vilify
her name and make her the butt of rid
icule. But Jane did not care She had
found purchaserfor her house, and was
leaving London. Sweet thought of
''Restful Harbor,' with it's old china
and scent of mignonette were fitting
across her mind, and the goose-like hiss
and cackle of society gossip, though
some of it reached her ears, did not at
feet her peace of mind. One of it's ex-
| pected results, however, was that young
Arthur Morvyn. second son Of the late
Earl of Drumleigh, hearing old Miss
+ Beimonts name and fame pulled to
pieces i'll every direction, took means to
ascertain exactly the truth of the
scandal affecting her; and when he
! found that it was nothing more or less
than an independent display Of spirit
which had moved her to resent the dis
tinguished presence of royalty in her
! house. because of the crowd of snobs
attendant on it, his admiration for her
knew no bounds. Taking into due con-
sideration her twenty thousand a year,
| her grand manner" and this marked
proof she had given of a StraightfOr-
wad and singularly firm character, Ar
thur Morvyn wrote her a remarkable
letter. 1t spoke of his deep respect for
her, the desire he had to devote himself
! to making her happy; in short. it was a
clear, concise, businesslike and per-
fectly honorable proposal of marriage.
Dear me! How Jane cried over it to
be sure! She positively sobbed, did
Jane, till her nerves were all in a
red and swollen. For hours she sat by
herself reading Arthur Morvyn's letter
over and over again, and weeping, till
at last, when her tears had full vent
and the shedding of them had eased
her woman's heart, she gradually re-
gained self-control, and sitting down
quietly at her desk wrote her rejection
of the only distinct offer of marriage
she had ever had in all her life. And
| this was how she did it:
| "To the Honorable Arthur Morvyn-
| My Dear Young Man Your letter has
very heartily grieved me, as well as
/ caused me shame, for surely it is in
every sense shameful that you, who are
| mere boy, should venture to address a
woman of my years on such a subject
as marriage. l should indeed be seri-
ously offended with you if you were not
the son of your father; but for his mem
ory's sake I will put aside my own hurt
| feelings and speak to you with the sin
certify and feeling as well as the frank
ness Of a true friend. You must
know therefore. that your father, before
ne became Earl of Drumleigh, was my
sweetheart; we were girl and boy to-
gether and loved each other very dearly
| in the old days when he used to visit us
at Ashleigh-i in the Dell. Circumstances
connected with his position prevented
any possibility of marriage between us.
his parents were against it, and my good
father would not allow me to think of
wedding any man whose family might
! have looked upon me as an unwelcome
intruder. So we parted; and never met
again. He married, stayed single. For
| you must surely know that there are
/ some hearts in the world which can
never forget a great love-this has been
my case, and this viii account to you
for the great interest felt in you when
| I first had the pleasure of meeting you.
Now, my dear boy, I know quite well
what has made you commit the folly of
asking an old woman like me to marry
/ you--it is the temptation my wealth has
! for you, and nothing more. Let me en-
treat of you to put such wrong and fool
/ ish notions out of your head forever.
/ They are the result Of a bad system of
education and the Dernicious laxity of
moral force and fine feeling. which is
so sad nowadays in latter-day society.
Never marry woman for her money,
whe her such a woman be Young or old ::
marry for love. 1t is the old Fashioned
way, but it is the best way and the only
/ one that God approves with His bless
| ing. Find some sweet girl whose heart
is yours and yours only, and if you are
not rich enough 10 keep her in all the
wanton and foolish luxury which dis
| figures the manners of the age, at any
rate be strong enough to work for her
and surround her with whatever COM