Year: 1879

pray you forgive the presumption which has
led me to form an erroneous hope. Your
youth, your inexperience, your genuine kind
ness of heart, combine to inspire me with q
warm interest in your welfare but this,
confess, is not the strongest motive which has
led me to entreat you to share my fortune and
. my home. Yes, my young friend, it is even
this which now venture to propose to you
Do not hastily reject the offer, but do me the


kindness to give it careful and dispassionate


consideration.


"You are young enough to be my son nay
} nv grandson rather. For this reason, you
: need feel no delicacy in permitting me to
contribute, as far as lies in my power, to your


worldly comfort, and success in life. And


this benefit would be far slighter one than
that which you, by giving me your compan:


ionship, your esteem, your friendship
add. your affection 2-could confer upon me


in return.


81 have led solitary, and, for the most
part, a sorrowful life. I have had griefs to


endure which it would be needless to dwell
upon here They are past, and care not to


recall them. Bitter, bitter they were, and


bitter is their memory;, but let them rest


am now very lonely. live here, as you see
without relation or friend. I have some &C,


ouaintances with whom occasionally ex-


change ceremonious calls. Beyond this | sell


dom hold intercourse with any one Your


frank, genial face, your fresh, kindly manner,


which am sure are truthful indications OF


YOUR real nature, have attracted me wonder
full y. feel that there is no deception in
YOU =; and for one who has experienced the


hollowness and heartlessness of the world


sincerity has potent charm. Then you have


told me that you, like myself, are alone
Were there relatives living who could hold


out claim upon you, should not propose to


stand in their way; but the absence of such


ties emboldens me to think that you may


permit me to stand in the place of those nat


ural relations of which Providence has de-


prived you. You have no mother-I have


no son. Come to me, entreat you, and be


my son


I feel convinced that you have no merce


nary ideas. For this reason | have barely al


luded to my fortune, which l wish to place at


YOUR disposal. But while confident that you


are above base and sordid considerations,
am not so simple as to suppose that you are


utterly Indifferent to the means OF advancing


yourself in life. !, therefore, desire now to
state that my fortune is ample, and can at


ford you abundant facilities for carrying out
any projects you may have formed, or for
, starting you in any enterprise which may best


contribute to your worldly success. And


please to remember that shall not attribute


YOUR acceptance of my proposal, if you dc


accept it, to any but right, honorable and


natural motives. do not expect you to &C.


cord to me instantly the affection which my
soul Graves. That would be foolish, unreason'


able, and unworthy of an intelligent mind


But I do expect, and hope, to win from you


such regard as may, in time, deepen into


warm and enduring attachment, which will


brighten my closing years, and cheer my
pathway to the tomb.


"Fortunately, neither you nor l have rea


son to fear criticism or disapproval. We are


at liberty to act for ourselves. Do not, there
fore, allow thought of what the world may


say in this matter, influence your decision.


"I can only say, in conclusion, that if you
consent to my proposal, you will be comforting


upon me the greatest blessing one human be:
ing can extend to another. 1fyou refuse, |
must bear the disappointment with what res


ignation may. 1t will be only one of many


which have fallen to my lot but will be none
the less painful Notwithstanding.
; "If have been too difuse in this appeal
attribute it only to my anxiety to place ths
, case fully before you. beg that you will
not send me an immediate reply. Whatever


your ultimate decision may be, it will be best
that it should not be arrived at in haste.
shall await it with the utmost anxiety. In
> the meantime, believe that remain


) "Sincerely your friend,
"A. E. DARCY"
This document was written with lawyer
like neatness and precision. 1t was evidently
the result of careful preparation and thought
At first it nearly took away Wilfred'E
breath. The idea presented to him was sc
novel, so unlocked for, that it seemed difficult


to realize the sincerity of the writer's propo
SAL But of that, Of course, there could be
no doubt. The offer was a bona fde one
The only question was-ought he to accep
it, or not?


On the one hand, it was, in worldly point
Of view, very tempting one. Here was
fortune, larger, probably, than by years, per
haps lifetime, of exertion he could hope tt
attain, laid at his disposal, and all in ex
change simply for pledge of his friendship
his regard That he could learn soon te
love this old lady he did not doubt; already


she had fascinated him to singular extent
On the other side of the question, he fell
that he would be, to some extent, giving uE
E his liberty; voluntarily relinquishing the
freedom of action which he now enjoyed with


out restraint. If he pledged himself to fill
the relation of a con towards his benefactress
she would naturally have right to demand
from him all flial concessions to her will


But what hardship would there be in that


She would never demand from him the sac


rifce which his own dear mother had claimed


at his hands. True, no one, however good


and kind, however lavish of her benefits


could supply that mothers place in his heart
but this friend, he thought, could come near
er doing so than any one else. And he was


very lonely, there was no doubt of that


Would he not be happier in the society Of


such friend p


Revolving thus the pros and cons, he decid'
ed that at all events it would be proper for


him not to delay in making an acknowleg'
ment of Madame d'Arcy's offer. He there


fore wrote the following note, and dispatched


it by the hands of a servant;