Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1898-06-30

the very verge Nf 3SwOOnlng. Her lips
We're mute. her eyes closed, her face as
white as death.
On seeing her condition. Welby's
feelings entirely overcame him. Throw
ing himself at her feet, he seized and
covered her hands with kisses, ex-
claiming. in broken voice:
Lady: Mrs. Greville! oh, my more
than mothers look at me! speak to
me-! l was no willing imposter!"
ooh! my son! my son! my lost son!'
walled the lady, in voice so broken
by anguish as to be almost inaudible.
''He is not lost. dear lady he is not
lost! Whatever becomes Of the roor
fellow at your feet, your son is safe!
he is found! And, If my resolution to
make the disclosure l have made had
required spur. it would have gained
it from the moment that had certain
intelligence of the real Fulke Gre
ville's existence! Lady, listen, and be
happy! When he ran away from
school he cast himself upon the prorec-
tiol of his uncle, Captain William Full
joy-of Fuljoy's Isle-an old retired
sea captain, living ON remote island
upon the coast OF Maryland. But / be-
lieve you know who Captain Ful;oy
was. Well, the captain brought him
up as his son: sent him to the Univer-
sity Of Virginia, and afterwards to
West Point. and finally procured him
q commission in Tie regular army. He
how holds the rank Of colonel, and
though under temporary cloud, he is
universally esteemed as a gentleman
of high moral and intellectual excel
lence. Oh, lady! look up! and while
you rejoice in the recovery of your
rightfIl step-son. speak word Of for
giveness-a word of kindness to the
or'fellow who has SO long and so un-
willingly held his rank in society and
his place in your affectionsn
"And do you fancy it is of him 1
thirk? of him, the froward. the per-
verse, the stiff-necked boy who fled
from my charge and has held himself
aloof from my knowledge all these
many years? No. no, mol thought
not of him.. but OF you--of you. my
good! my loving! my truc-hearted
one! And to think that, after ali, you
are not my son. exclaimed the lady,
throwing her arms around Welby,
dropping her head upon his shoulder,
and bursting into passion of tears.
Neither spoke for a time; but ut
length the lady lifted her head, and,
laying both her hands upon the Shout
ders of Welby, gazed sadly in his face,
as she said:
ooh! 1 might have known that you
were not Fulke Greville. Bearing his
perfect form and features as you do,
yet your mind is so much higher, and
your heart so much tenderer, and your
spirit so much more refined than ever
his were! o, my dear boy! it is scarce
ly half an hour since told you that,
before Fulke Greville ran away from
school, l had cherished him from a
sense of duty, and as my late hus-
bands son; but that since you came
back you had so changed that l grew
to love you for your own personal mer-
its! All, Welby! little did l think that
the boy who ran away and the boy
who was brought back. so exact in per-
sonal appearance, so different in char
acter, were different in identity, too!
Aud to think that you, so good, so true,
so loving, are not my son! Oh. what
shall l do! Oh, sorrow! sorrow" cried
Mrs. Greville, bursting anew into tears.
Lady, dear lady! my mother. my
saviour, almost my creator, listen to
me. You have been a mother to me;
you have saved me from utter indi-
sence; you have made me what I am!
But for you, might still have been an
oyster-cdrrier; or, worse than that, in
the despair of uncultivated talent and
unsatisfed ambition, might have
been a drunkard or a felon! You
saved me from, all that! You rescued
me almost from the gutter! You gave
me home and mother! You gave
me an education and a profession!
You have made me man! And now,
oh, lady, let me ask you-is not the
boy that you have thus loved, thus
reared and thus established, as near to
you. by all that you have done for him,
as any step-son could be?''
eyes, yes, my own dear boy, yes;
but still I wish you were my son-I
wish you bore my name! 1t is hard,
it is distressing, to find that you are
not what for so many years held you
to bev'
'Mrs. Greville! dear Mrs. Greville!
I hope you do not hold me to have been
a willing imposter during all these
years" inquired Welby, sadly.
"Imposter! No. my dear. How should
you have been? You protested against
the position in which we placed you,
until you were silenced by authority.
You resisted until you We're con luered
by irresistible force. What, then, could
you do but what you have done?-
wait for your legal majority, when you
should be free to act for yourself? My
boy, you have acted well throughout,
and with rare wisdom indeed in one
so young! And. as for my part, 1 can
not regret the mistake we made since
it rescued an excellent lad frolA the
perils Of poverty and rendered me hap
by for ever so many years. You see,
my dear, that the effect of the shock
your communication gave me is al
ready passing away! l shall get en-
tlrely over it presentlyv'
Welby kissed her hands in silence,
"And now let me tell you, Welby!
dear Welby! that though 1 very much
regret that your name is not Greville,
yet l cannot let you go! 10 cease to
love you, to cease to take pride in you,
to cease to look forward with ambi-
ton to your professional career, would
be to cease to have future of my
own! 10 cast you off would be death!
Therefore, dear hov talxa what nomo