Year: 1867

was 1mpOSSlDle IOf OIuiuaiy Sos
squires of fine ladies to appreciate.
James distance and hauteur had kept
the reticent Scotchman silent,-all the
more agreeable, therefore, was her leav-
| ing home. At Saxonfield her life was
real romance, as beautiful as any to be
found in the pages of her novels. All
was splendor and gayety; for though
she was known to be the niece OF the
steward of Latten-cover, yet, as the
guest of the heiress, and treated by her
with sisterly affection, she was admit.
ted to all the houses where she herself
visited, and partook of the pleasures
which they afforded. -
It was bright summer chapter In
her life, which was suddenly ended by a
summons from home to the deathbed of
her father. Though affectionate and
dutiful by nature, her sympathies had
not flowed forth strongly for either OF
parents. She had been educated into
being very distinct from themselves, 30
that, could her life have flowed on ac,
cording to her liking, her parents would
not necessarily have formed one OF its
elements; vet q scene like that to which
she was summoned, without any prepa-
ration, was one to call into passionate
vitality every slumbering instinct OF
daughterly affection. 1t was her low
ing and indulgent father whom she saw,
struck down by mortal malady, lying
before her, and who now, in the very
presence Of death, was waiting to give
her his last injunction and his bless
ing.


She knelt at his bedside, and besought
him to live, and she would be tenfoid
his daughter in love and duty.


But he knew that his hours were mum.
bered, and, apparently regardless OF
himself, and with an impatience which
seemed to reject terms of endearment OF
request, demanded a promise that she
would become the wife Of David Ron-
sld,-that faithful servant that had
been as a son to him, and who loved
him as father. But, cOnfounded and
almost paralyzed by his words, she re-
mained silent. Then her soul rose in
rebellion, and the old Lucifer-pride
hardening her heart, she demanded, In
her turn, why he required this impos.
sible thing from her. The firmness OF
his character now asserted itself, and,
calling back life, as it were, he sternly
reproved her for pride and ingratitude,
and reiterated his command.


Ronald, who learned what was pass
ing in the death chamber from the
mother, hastened to the bedside, where
Jane still knelt in an agony OF bewil-
dered feeling; and, addressing the dying
man, pleaded for his daughter, renoun-
cling all claim to her hand. and justi-
flying her rejection of his wishes. But
it was too late; the old man had ceased
TO understand more than that all was
wrong, and that his daughter had
thwarted him at the last. Thus he
died, leaving to the survivors TAR
deeper pang than any ordinary death
could have inflict ed.


The mother, o strongwilled woman,
who had done mans work rather than
a woman's for great part of her life,
and who had livetlin hand-in-hand union
with her husband, never willingly COM
promising his wishes, now felt herself
standing, rs it were, in his place, and
accepted it as a duty to carry ont his
wishes. The fathers will, indeed, was
80 framed as to make this additionally
desirable, for a share of the business
was left to Ronald, and so much control
over the whole rs would render him
q very useful or q very desirable
partner. She was not wanting In
affection to her daughter, but she was
by no means of q sentimental charac-
ter. She loved money and the means
of making money, and seeing now the
position in which she stood with
partner in the business, who, If not
son law, must bring in his own sep
arate interests, she would hear Of moth
ing but that her daughter should be
willing to carry out her fathers wishes.
The daughter, on her part, was resolute,
and a warfare began in the bereayed
house which must have led to stu
sadder perplexity, had not Ronald
himself voluntarily and nobly come TO
+ the re scue.


Scarcely had his old friend and master
been buried week when he presented
to the widow a properly drawn, legal
remuneration of all part in lbbotson's
property, and all claim to any advan-
tages he might have derived under his
will. This was surprise to the widow,
but, under existing circumstances,
great relief.


at is ten thousand pounds at the
lowest estimate" she said, in tone OF
astonished yexation. "He knows that
as well as / do; and which of you two
is the greatest fool, it Is hard for me to
say!


But this to her " as only the b"si"-
- of tro.Ll.,. Dav1d was as deter
mined to leave as Jane had been not to
marry him; and in losing him she lost,
as it seemed at the moment, the
very life and strength of the busi-
ness still more was it so when
she began to experience the
trouble Of strange faces, and the
responsibility Of everything lying on
her shoulders. Offers of partnership
she had from all quarters, but these she
Indignantly refused.


81 am Widow Ibbotson," she said,
"and as it was not Gods will that David
should profit by the business, I'll have
no new name mixed up with mine"


And for all this she held her daughter
responsible.


David left and went to "uncle Lin
acres" his intention being to emigrate
some where; and shortly afterwards his
mother followed him, for she said, II
must see about the poor lads outfit If
he goes"


BY this means great gnlf opened
between the hitherto united families,
ior Mrs. Ibbotson was angry at being
deserted, and all were angry with Jane
as the handspring of the whole mis-
chief.


So the twelve months of outward
mourning went on, and very joyless
time it was, anu yet Jane, who would
have been thankful for some little sun
shine of the heart, felt n reluctance to
leave her mother. She stayed at home,
therefore, and bore her petulance with
pstient equanimity. The fulflment Of
all duty is q gracious thing, and bless
ings spring up in very unexpected
ways to every heart that is willing to
bear anOthers burden in love. Thus
very gradual but real change came over
her. She craved less for excitement;
she became less alive to the annoy ance
Of retail trade, and even astonished her
self by voluntarily pas sing through the
.hop that ehe might say n kind word To