The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1899-04-02
By GEO. R. SIMS.
copyright. 1899; by George r. sims.l

as Father Andres niece" and she herself
the past being but as a dim childish MEM
ory-called him Uncle Andre" and Mad
anne Denier, a widow now, "auntie." and
they were all she thought of or cared for in
the world
Lillian Andre was too pretty and too fas-
cinating not TO attract admirers. She was
not a coquette nor a f1irt, but when she
went out visiting with Madame Denier or
the good father, who had found hosts of
English friends during the many years he
had been settled in London, she always
managed to be very nice and amiable to all
the young men without letting any of them
think that he had made more favorable
impression than another.
But one day there came a young cavalier
who was to carry all before him. A young
barrister, the son of a French banker es-
tablished in London, fell desperately in love
with Father Andres niece, and assiduously
cultivated the acquaintance of everybody
the good priest and Lillian counted among
their friends.
AS he was charming young man. and his
people were highly esteemed and exceed
ingly wealthy, he had not much difficulty
to contend with so far as getting himself
invited wherever there was a little dinner
of that sort. He was good player and was
great acquisition to the little tennis
parties which were held on the faded patch
of green surrounded by sooty trees in the
London square in which Madame Denier re-
sided.
Three months after he had first become
acquainted with her, CASTOR Darville, hav-
ing talked the matter over confidentially
with Lillian, called on Father Andre, and
formally solicited the honor of being re-
Ceived by him as the accepted sutton Of his
niece.
The good priest was somewhat taken
aback. 1t had not occurred to him that
Lillian was now a young woman, and would
naturally fall in love and want to marry the
man of her choice. To him she still
child.-She had grown to womanhood so
gradually that Father Andre had hardly no
ticed the circumstance. If it ever occurred
to him he had not thought it out sufficiently
TO realize what ii meant.
1t took him some little time to get over
his surprise that Mr.. CASTOR Darville, the
son of his generous friend, the rich banker,
should want TO make Lillian Madame OAR
vile, and when he had quite 6rasped the
fact his first question was Does my niece
know that you entertain these feelings
toward herr"
The young barrister smiled, but excused
the priests very natural ignorance on the
subject of courtship. OF course Lillian Knew
He would not have OH canned of approaching
Father Andre without Llian's appreciation
and consent.
And Lillian loves you-she has consented
to be your wife,
IF you approve her choice"
match for Lillian, who, if anything happened
to him, would be without a protector and
without fortune The future of the gentle
girl he had grown TO love almost with a
parents affection had often caused him
many anxious hours. Madame Denier had
only her late husbands property. and at her
death that would go to her husbands rela-
tives. He himself had been too loyal to his
duties, too good a friend to the poor around
him. to money. A rich and happy mar
rage would be a capital solution of the
difficulty, and here was one of the most
talented and wealthiest young men of his
acquaintance sutton for her hand.
There was but one Drawback. The fact
was that so many years had gone by since
the little four-year- heroine of London
tragedy came home with him, that many
people had forgotten the circumstances, and
actually looked upon Lillian as the child Of
Father Andres dead brother and the OAR
villes were among the number.
1t was not necessary as the child grew up
to tell everyone the story of her adoption.
1t would hardly have been fair to the girl
to tell everybody she absolutely with
out name that could be proved to be her
own--that no one knew who her father and
mother were, where they came from or what
their position in life had been.
And as the time went on Father Andre
himself had almost forgotten all that, and
the words my niece" came naturally
to his lips as they would have done had they
been justified by facts. The truth was,
however. brought home very forcibly now.
and it was. of course. his duty at once to
tell the young man the true position of af-
fairs.
He told Lilians story as briefly and as
sympathetically as he could, but insisted,
as it was his duty TO do, upon CASTOR thor
oughly realizing that the girl he wished to
make his wife was a girl of unknown par
entage, practically an "enfant trouve" and
she had been the only living being rescued
from a French laundry which burned
to the ground some sixteen years previously.
She might be the daughter of washerwom-
an. The great probability at any rate was,
that she was the child of a relative or
friend of the proprietor. or of one of the
employees. The truth would probably never
be known now, the wide publication
given to the inquest had failed TO elicit
single clew, and no inquiries had ever been
made concerning the child during all the
years that followed the catastrophe.
CASTOR Darville was naturally astonished
at Father Andres narrative. He quite
understood why Lillian had not told him her.
self. She too had begun to look upon herself
as the PRIESTS niece, and had no recollec-
ton of the circums tances under which she
came to be accepted everywhere as his rela-
tive.
But the young man was too honestly in
love with Lillian TO let the mystery of her
birth suggest itself to him insur-
mountable barrier TO their union. Everyone !
ignored that part of Lilians story and ac- |
copied her as Father Andres niece-it |
should be as Father Andres niece that he |
would marry her.
But the priest insisted that he should tell |
his father of his discovery. He would not |
be party 10 any concealment from one who |
after all was the head of the family and The |
custodian of its honor.
CASTOR Darville promised that his father /