The Marble times and Crystal silver lance., 1900-11-16
,or me- and think she has now fallen

|
time for the departure of the western
train. Madam, madam! 1 called,
your child will be left behind! The
shrek of the locomotive whistle was
my answer and before could leave
the car to summon one of the railroad
officials the two trains were steamlng
away from the station in different di-
rections.
II had not more than ten miles fur
ther to travel, and as soon as l could
recover from the embarrassment of
the circumstance laid my plans ac-
cordngly would leave the child In
the care of some person at the station,
telegraph back to the city a report of
the occurrence, and a description of
the heartless mother-but, assuredly,
avoid naming the disagreeable occur
renee to Irene.
AT this moment the village near
which stood the house AID beautiful
grounds of Mr.. Fortescue appeared in
sight The rustic church upon an en-
inence, overlooking the few scattered
dwellings, was the next object, and
| OIlCe HOTe tuc Train SluChcueu ito
speed. l took the child in my arms
and descended to the platform, and
what a sight met my eyes as hurried
along! The pony carriage Of the For
tescues. Irene, and another lady, the
occupants, and gentleman, Ia friend
of my own, whom had introduced to
Irene) on horseback at her side. his
hand upon the carriage door.
"'Oh, the unfortunate baby! i cried.
and shook it in desperation.
"I now comprehend, Mr.. Warne-
ford,' said Irene, in bitter tone, why
you failed to come yesterday You
were engaged with your charming
family congratulate you
"'Irene, Irenev l exclaimed. in
agony, allow me to explain
"She flashed one scornful glance
| from her dark eyes. and lashiEg her
spirited ponies, drove rapidly off.
deposited my unlucky burden in -he
nearest waiting-room and rushed out
again to relate my adventure, and re-
quest the advice of a magistrate, who
resided in the village.
ga most annoying affair for you,
Mr.. Warnefold,' said he, at the con
clusion of my recital, but as for the
poor-house.'
"Oh, uncle. and was the poor thing
sent to that dreadful place?" asked
Nellie, compassionately.
| mo, Nellie, for returned to leave
some money and my address, that
might be communicated with, in the
event of the child being claimed, and
the little creature smiled in my face
and graSped my finger in It's tiny hand
as if it recognized me. l pitied its
helplessuess, and as the wife of one
of the porters-who seemed to be a
kindly woman-proposed, for trifling'
sum to bring it up with her own,
gave it into her charge"
"Oh that wretch could not be its
mother!" calculated Nellie; "she had
stolen it. What was she Ikea
gipsy"
"She had the same fair hair and
delicate complexion as her child-but
Sle eluueu All ulsCUNely, why ohe
deserted it was never known.
Il returned home, and secluding my
self in my laboratory, endeavored to
forget the daydreams of the past.
Some little benefit may have resulted
from my labors in the science of chem
ming a womaus heart | never sought
again"
"And what became of the poor baby !?
did you ever see it since that dayi"
"a good. charitable lady, who, in her
lifetime was ever active in deeds of
mercy, was so interested in the child's
story that 81 determined to adopt it.
and brought 1t up in her own home. l
have no fear that the child will inherit
tha mothers faults, for there is the
kind friend who moulded her youthful
mind"
Mr.. Warneford pointed to the por-
trait Of sweet-looking woman, whose
eyes seemed to look down upon the
pair now seated beneath her.
"Dear Aunt Elinor" murmured Mel.
lie, as her eyes fell upon her own
black dress. Then suddenly starting
to her feet she breathlessly exclaimed
-"Who, then, is that deserted child"
"She was also called Elinor"
"No country-no kin-no name-only
waif" and tears rained dowo poor
Nellie's cheeks.
"My country is yours, dear one, and
husbands love and a husbands
name shall protect you from all OBJ
loquy." And Arthur Trevelyan's arms
were round the weeping girl, wlile he
! kissed away her tears. Il have heard
Mr.. Warnefords story Of the past
, Nellie, and now understand his mo
! tive for refusing me your hand"
"And you will never in after years
cast one reproach upon me for"
She shu6dered and left the word
unspoken.