Nelson Chronicle, Colne Observer, and Clitheroe Division News. — 1897-02-05 (Nelson, Lancashire, England)

SLIU11101)V 111011.'y vi, can LIO to thr  devil then, it you like, or it you non t 1150 : • • S• • • • Scarcely had the doors closed upon her brotherin-law, ere Elsie sat down awl wrote to her latc achoohmistress. Very briefly did she bi the pitiful story of lot husband's conviction and 0 her recent widowhood. In that letter not one word of the truth did sic attempt to conceal. "Of course,you must /nave heard or read of my darling's ' , she conclodedomeonsciously smearing the violet ink with tlik, uncontrollable tears that fell upon the thick vellum note paper: "and it b• better that I should let you know the unfortunab eircutnstances unit which I seek your friendship and companionship. If you are goo,' and 'war, enough to conic to mein my hour of need and to defy the censure of the world which would blame you if you failed to Minn the society of her whom it designates ' a murderer's widow,' and to refuse shelter beneath the room of a house on which has fallen tie, shadow of scandal hnd disgraee. }leaven only knows to what extent I shall be indebted for your kindness."  The next evening Lady Stanhope reeeived a delieat ly seential missive from 1A0111,13 Parnell, who begged to thank herdearest Elsie for her ex,xodingly kind offer, which she would be only too delighted to accept. And then oh' went on to assure her favourit Scholar that she would do all is her power to merit the emlidenee and bmefieenee of her dearest girl, and for her kindly remetntgance of a lonely old woman she would never yea,, to be grin tofol. Save by offering a few w.ll-ehosen words of gentle and unebtrusive 1.'011114.111,e for the sad news 11-111.di her ladyship had imparted to her, the spinster wisely refrained from touching upon that mubjeet whie4 must over he a delhnto one io the grief-striekcn woman whom she remembered us a petty, goldm haired girl, and whom she pitied with all the ardour af her compass: cite heart. . .  - AceorlinT to promise, the retirsl scluml-mistress srrived at the Muir ope week later, when slum was iwcorded a hearty weleoine by her sonwtime pupil, whom she clasp .1 be her bosom and upon whim:, :theok she imprintA a warm, motherly kiss that 7.aused the tears to staet to Elsie's Vyt's ; for dhl not. that embrace awl erkt`SS bring hack to her the thought of Ow ;n wlio-'- anus had spent 1,0 much of her childhood—that childhood of which she could not think without a bitter pang of sorrow ? Those brief days—so infinitely sweet and blissful whilst they lasted—seemed like the resemblance of some beautiful dream from which, thud she had too soon awakened to find that those tender fini4ers which herd so often stolen uric her baby tresses were ~,,, uldering in the grave, and that that fair young face was for over taken from her sight. How much she needed a mother's love and consolation now—now that she was alone in the world, her life shadowed by the Amid that had enveloped the very sunshine of her existence. In that hour of desolation—when death had robbed her of all whom she had loved—she clung to that matronly form, begging, like a simple, helpless child, for womanly friendship and protection. As she rested her head upon the shoulder of this little lady, whine brown hair was streaked with ;.rrev, and whose owe handsome feat ores were beautified by the emnaiiing light of a guileless soul and a smooth and uneventful life, the very floodgat aof grief were opened, and Elsie wept as bitter tears as any that had ever fallen from the eyes of the brOkell-hefirted wOIIIBII, whose hopes lay in her 1.10,,0TU crushed arid dead.  "My poor darling," the aympathetie Louisa cried, with a voice ringing with "ins pr darling, it is hard indeed to see you so unhappy. Rut there is a height lining to every eloud, dear, and if you are not so joyomly happy in the future iii yon have been in the past you may yet learn to think less hopelessly of the dap that are to