Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1901-06-20

said Mrs. Campbell, starting up from her
pillow. ''But no; it cannot be. Your
mother is lying in Chicopee, and Ella,
my sister, died in England"
Every particle of color had left Mary's
face, and her eyes, now black as mid
night, stared wildly at Mrs. Campbell
The sad story, which her mother had
once told her, came back to her mind,
bringing with it the thought which had
so agitated her companion.
Eyes" she continued, without noticing
what Mrs. Campbell had said, my moth
err was Ella Temple, and she had two
sisters, one her-own, and the other a
half-sister-Sarah Fletcher and Jane
Temple-both of whom came to America
| many years ago"
Tell me more-tell me all you know"
| whispered Mrs. Campbell, grasping
Mary's hand; "and how it came about
that l thought she was dead-my sister"
Upon this point Mary could throw no
light, but of all that she had heard from
her mother she told, and then Mrs. Camp
BELL pointing to her writing desk, said:
Bring it to me. | must read that let
ter again"
Mary obeyed, and taking out a much
soiled, blotted letter, Mrs. Campbell ask
ed her to read it aloud. 1t was as fol-
lows:
Daughter Jane-I now take this oppo.s
tunity of informing you that I've lost
your sister Ella, and have now no child
saving yourself, who, if you behave we'll,
will be my only heir Sometimes l wish
you were here, for it's lonesome living
alone, but | suppose you're better or
where you are. Do you know anything
of that girl Sarah? Her cross-gra;ned
uncle has never written me a word since
he left England If | live three years
longer | shall come to America, and I'M
til that time, adieu. Your father,
HENRY TEMPLE"
Glow short and coldr' was Mary's first
exclamation, for her impressions of her
grandfather were not very agreeable.
at is like all his letters" answered
Mrs Campbell But it was cruel to
make me think Ella was dead, for how
else could | suppose he had lost herr?
Then, as the conviction came over her
that Mary was indeed the child of her
own sister, she wound her arms about her
neck, and kissing her lips, murmured,
"My child-Mary Oh, had known this
sooner, you should not have been so cru
ely tied, and little Allie should new
| er have died in the almshouse. But you'll
never leUve me now, for all that | have
is yours,-yours and ELIAS"
The thought of Ella touched new
| chord, end Mrs. CampbelPs tears were
rendered less bitter by the knowledge
that she had cared for, and been a mother
to, one Of her sisters orphan children.
II know now, why, from the first, L
felt so drawn toward Ella, and why her
clear, large eyes are so much like my own
lost darling's, and even you, Mary
Here Mrs. Campbell paused, for proud
as she now was of Mary, there had been
a time when the naughty lady turned
away from the sober, homely little child,
who begged so piteousy Ito go with
Ella" where there was room and to spare.
All this came up in sad review before
Mrs. Campbell, and as she recalled the
incidents of her sisters death, and
thought of the noble little Frank, who
often went hungry and cold that his
mother and sisters might be warm and
fed, she felt that her heart would burst
with it's weight of sorrow.
oh" said she, ito die so near me-
my oaly sister, and | never know it
never go near her. / with all my wealth,
as mich hers as mine-and she dying or
starvation"
Wiping the hot tears from her own
eyes, Mary strove to comfort her aunt
by telling how affectionately her mother
had always remembered her. And even
on the night Of her DEATH" said she, ''she
spoke Of you, and babe me, if l ever
founi you, love you for her sake
Ioxr l-oI NrC
Campbell.
Mxry's warm kiss upon her cheek, and
the loving clasp Of her arms around her
aunt neck, was a sufficient answer.
DO you know aught of my Aunt
Saraa?" Mary asked at last; and Mrs.
Campbell replied:
Nothing definite. From father we first
hearl that she was in New York, and
then Aunt Morris wrote to her ncle, maxi
ing inquiries concerning her. l think the
Fletchers were rather pec%r in their
dispUsitions, and were probably jealous
of our family, for the letter was long I'M
answered, and when at last Sarah's uncle
wrote, he said, that independent Of old
Temples aid she had received a good
educ alton adding further that she had
married. and gone West, and that he was
inteadng soon to follow her. He neither
gave the name of her husband nor the
place to which they were going, and as
all cur subsequent letters were unanswer-
ed, I know not whether she is dead or
alive; but often when | think how alone
l arr, without a relative in the world, l
have prayed and wept that she might
come back; for though l never saw her
that l remember, she was my mother $
child, and l should love her for that"
TO be continued)