Chicago eagle. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1889-19??, 1899-04-15

she asked-when the first salutes allowed
her an opportunity to speak.
ION her way to bed, poor soul, under
the care Of the housekecper," Linley an.
swercd.
Anything infectious, my dear Her.
hertz" Mrs. Presty inquired, appearing at
the breakfast room door.
Linley addressed his reply to his wife:
Nothing more serious, Catherine, than
want Of strength. She was In such state
Of fatigue, after our long night journey,
that had to lift her out Of the carriage"
Mrs. Prcsty listened with an appearance
of the deepest interest. "Quite q novelty
In the way Of governess," she said.
Linley drew a deep breath Of relief
when he was left alone with his wife.
what makes your mother 30 particularly
disagreeable this morning. be inquired.
"She doesn't approve, dear, Of my leav.
Ing It to you to choose a governess for
Linley mentioned the advertisement,
and described his interview with the
school mistress. Having next acknowl.
edged that he had received visit from
Miss Wester6eld herself, he repeated all
that she had been able to tell, him Of her
fathers wasted life and melancholy end.
Really interested by this time, Mrs. Lin.
ley was eager for more information. Her
husband hesitatcd. II would rather you
heard the rest Of II from Miss Wester-
field" he said-''in my absence"
why, In your absence2'
Because she can speak to you more
freely, when I ON not present. Hear her
tell her own story, and then let me know
whether you think I have made q mis-.
take. submit to your decision before
hand, whichever way It may incline"
Mrs. Linley rewarded him with kiss.
II married stranger had seen them, at
that moment, be would have been remind.
ed Of forgotten days-thc days Of bis
honeymoon.
"And now" Linley resumed, suppose
we talk little about ourselves. haven't
seen my brother yet. Where IL Randall"
Staying at the farm to look after your
interests. We expect him to come back
to-day. All! Herbert, what do we not all
owe to that dear good brother Of yours!
There 10 really no end to bis kindness. The
last Of our poor Highland families, who
have emigrated to America, have had
their expenses privately paid by Randall.
The wife has written to me, and has let
out the secret. There IL an American
newspaper among the letters that are
waiting your brothers return, sent to him
a. little mark Of attention by these good,
grateful people," Having alluded to the
neighbors who had left Scotland. Mrs.
Linley was reminded Of other neighbors
who had remained. She was still relating
events Of local interest, when the clock In.
terrupted her by striking the hour Of the
nursery dinner. What had become of
Kitty Mrs. Linley rose and rang the
bell to make inquiries.
On the point Of answering, the servant
looked round at the open door behind
him. He drew aside, and revealed Kitty,
In the corridor, hand In hand with Sgd.
ney Westerfeld-w timidly hesitated at
entering the room. Here she Is,
mamma" cried the child. II think she's
afraid Of you; help me to pull her In"
Mrs. Linley advanced to receive the new
member Of her household, with the IRE.
sistlble grace and kindnes switch charm.
cd every stranger who approached her.
"Oh, It's oil right" said Kitty. "Syd
likes me. and like sgd. What do you
think? She lived In London with cruel
woman who never gave her enough to
eat. See what good girl am! I'm be.
ginning to feed her already" Kitty pull.
ed boz Of sweetmcats out Of her pocket
and handed II to the governess with tap
on the lid. suggestive Of IN old gentleman
Offering pinch Of snu6 to u friend.
my dear child, you mustn't speak to
Miss WesterHeld In that way! Pray ex.
cuse her." said Mrs. Linley, turning to
Sydney, with q smile; II am afraid she
has been disturbing you In your room."
Sydney's silent answer touched tho
mothers heart; she kissed her little
friend. II hope you will let her call me
Syd," she said gently; ut reminds me Of
| happier time" Her voice faltered; she
could say no more. Kitty explained, with
the air of grown person encouraging q
child: II know oil about II, mamma. She
means when her papa was alive. She lost
her papa when she was little girl like
me. I didn't disturb her. only said:
My names Kitty; may get up on the
bedY And she was quite willing; and
we talked. And helped her to Dress"
Mrs. Linlcy led Sydney to the sofa, and
stopped the dOw Of her daughters nara.
tive. The look, the voice, the manner of
the governess had already made their
simple appeal to her generous nature.
When her husband took Kitty's hand to
lead her with him out Of the room, she
whispered as he passed: "YOu have done
quite right; I haven't doubt about It."
The two ladies' were alone. Widely as
the lot In life Of one differed from the
lot In life Of the other, they presented a
contrast In personal appearance, which
was more remarkable still. In the prime
of life, tall and fair-the beauty Of her
delicate complexion and her brilliant blue
eyes, rivaled by the chaym Of q figure
which had arrived at Its mature perfec.
ton of develOpment---Airs. Linley sat side
by side with frail little dark-eycd crea.
ture, thin and pale, whose wasted face
bore patient witness to the three cruelest
privatiOns under which youth can suffer
want of fresh air, want of nourishment
and want of kindness. The gentle mis-
tress Of the house wondered sadly, II this
lost child Of misfortune was capable OF
seeing the brighter prospect before hei
that promised enjoyment Of happier life
to come.
Sydney told all the details OF the sad
history of her young life. When she had
finished she looked round, and started tc
her feet. ooh. here's lady! Shall ! g
away"
The curtains hanging over the entrance
to the library were opened for the second
time. With composure and dignity. the
lady who had startled Sydney entered thu
room.
Have you been reading In the library?'
Mrs. Linley asked. And Mrs. Presty an
swered:
h.AA