Cousin Maude

"Yes, sar," answered the knowing negro, turning the heads of the

unwilling horses in a direction which would not bring them home so

soon by one whole hour.

But the grocery was shunned, and so the doctor did not care even if

the clock did strike nine just as they stopped at their own gate.

The night was dark and the bride could not distinguish the exterior

of the house, neither was the interior plainly discernible, lighted

as it was with an oil lamp, and a single tallow candle. But she

scarcely thought of this, so intent was she upon the beautiful face

of the crippled boy, who sat in his armchair, eagerly awaiting her

arrival.

"This is Louis," the father said: and the scornful eyes which with

one rapid glance had scanned the whole apartment filled with tears

as they, turned toward the boy.

Dropping on one knee before him, the lady, parted the silken hair

from his forehead, saying very gently, "You must be like your

mother, save that your eyes are brown, and hers were blue. May I be

your mother, Louis?"

Very wonderingly the child gazed into her face. It was radiantly

beautiful, while the dreamy eyes rested upon him with such a

yearning look that his heart went out toward her at once, and

winding his arms around her neck, he murmured, "I shall love you

very much, my mother."

For a moment Maude Glendower held him to her bosom, while her

thoughts went back to the long ago when another face much like his

had rested there, and another voice had whispered in her ear, "I

love you, Maude Glendower." That voice was hushed in death, but

through the child it spoke to her again, and with a throbbing heart

she vowed to be to the crippled boy what Matty herself would well

approve, could she speak from her low bed beneath the willows.

"What of your sister?" the lady said at last, rising to her feet.

"Is she recovering her sight?"

"Nellie writes there is hope," said Louis, "though she did not

receive attention soon enough, the physician says."

There was reproach, contempt, and anger in the large black eyes

which sought the doctor's face, but the light was dim, and he did

not see it.

"It will be a great misfortune to her, and very hard on me if she is

blind, for of course I must take care of her," he said at last,

while his wife indignantly replied, "Take care of her! Yes, I'd sell

my diamonds rather than see her suffer!"