The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1904-10-01

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life, under the simple name of Edward
Worthington.
But, alas! our joy was but for brief
period, for when our little girl was only
three weeks old, she left me for bright
er world-a never-fading heritage on
| high.
After her death l was inconsolable.
Life for me was aimless; so l cared not
what became of me. Then Mrs. Never
gail came with her sisterly advice and
consultations, and in her pious efforts l
again regained my outward composure.
Mrs. Nevergail, with the consent OF
her good husband, then offered to take
charge of my infant child, saying that
perhaps at present l might not desire to
announce my marriage, or her existence,
to my proud and stern father.
after giving the matter consideration
l consented to their plan, and made up
this package at that time, to be kept un-
til this birthday. l charged them to keep
my secret sacredly, and to give my little
one their own name and bring her up
in every respect as they would had she
been actually their own.
Il informed them that on this birth
day she might be told this story, but un-
til l reclaimed her l desired her to re-
main with them. If at this date my
father still lived, l should settle upon
her suitable allowance, and perhaps
visit her occasionally in New York with
out his knowledge.
Zone year ago he died; and l at once
wrote to Mrs Nevergail the fact, and
told her that l had now inherited the
i ebo ao1f
to recall my child.
'She instantly answered to the address
l had given her, communicating the fact
that she was a widow, very near her end,
and begged me to leave Ethel with her
until she should pass away, or until, at
any rate, the fifth of October. She told
me she should sail for England very soon,
taking Ethel with her, and said that
could hear of her at the residence of her
cousin, Mr.. Rogers, at any time. l call
| ed there last week, as directed, only to
| hear of my kind friends death, and the
| astounding news that my sweet daughter
was even then an inmate of Castle Cairn.
"Gladly 1 repaired hither to meet at
once daughter, mother and niece. May we
never more be parted"
Amen, say to that" calculated the
happy duchess. 81 have been lonely, in
deed, without my son. Now l am old
and need sons care and attention"
(Which care, rest assured, shall al
ways be yours" again repeated the duke,
as he stopped and pressed a warm kiss
| upon her still handsome cheeks.
When In the morning DR.. Glendenning
| called and was told the news that the
poor governess was no other than Lady
Ethel Worthington, acknowledged daugh-
ter of the Duke of Westmoreland, his
heart sank within him, and he could only
| whisper in trembling tones:
| "Will this noble relationship cause you
| to regret our engagement? Oh, Ethel,
| Ethel, will this part us?'
Never" was the glad reply. 'My
father knows too we'll the value of a true
love, and he surely will not refuse his
consent to our union. If he does, am
Of age, and have promised that nothing
shall stand in the way of our marriage"
Nothing did separate them. The duke
was much pleased with DR.. Glenden-
ning's manly demeanor, and when he tim
idly asked for his daughters hand he
smiled brightly and gave his consent.
So Lady Ethel Worthington married
DR.. Earle Elfenstein Glendenning, amid
great rejoicings and vast displays of
wealth, beauty and fashion, after which
the bonnie" bride was welcomed gladly
to the remodeled and greatly improved
hall, place that still bore 50 strange a
history.
Sir Fitzroy lived nearly two years af-
ter the marriage Of his son, and these
years were unclouded by a single sorrow
He loved his children fondly, and was
greatly beloved by them in return. He
died at last quite suddenly, and was laid
to rest beside his brother Arthur in the
family vault.
Sir Earle Elfenstein Glendenning, Nj
D., and his beautiful wife, Lady Ethel
were ever regarded with true affection
by all their neigh bors and tenants; and
when, at last, the duke, after his moth
er's death, did, In his loneliness, love and
we'd a second time, a lady Of rank, the
Countess Teresa Lowell, they found in
the new duchess a rare addition to their
circle of dear ones, and the most happy
intercourse ever existed between the two
families.
Poor Constance Glendenning. in losing
husband, title and wealth, became a mel.
|
lover, whom she dearly loved, was so i'm.
pressed upon her heart and Imagination
that after she heard it in all it's hideous.
ness the very name Of her husband in
her presence brought on nervous trem-
blings to such an extent that the subject
had to be banished entirely from her
hearing.
The horrible exposure of her husbands
sin produced at length another revulsior
of feeling, and with deep remorse he1
heart returned to her early love, cling
ing ever to his memory, only to shed tears
over his sorrowful fate and devotion te
herself, tears of unavaifng regret.
So she had lived and so at last she
died. Just two years after she left the
hall she breathed her sad life away, anG
her last words were:
Arthur, Arthur, my only love, come
to thee now, nevermore to be parted"