THE TEST.

Patea Mail, Volume II, Issue 189, 31 January 1877, Page 4

THE TEST.

r.v jcmiK ox.auk. Fkw'knew, or at least remembered, the deep sorrow which bad so long lain at the heart of Malcolm M.errick, the merchant. It was now twenty years since the nurse who had her in charge had suffered his infant daughter to stray out other sight through an op“ii gale leading to a high cliff overhanging the deep river which skirted the grounds of the family mansion. The child had never been soon again. Searches and inquiries proved vain. That little Elsie had fallen from the rock and been carried down by the tide, was the solution of tier fate which her heart-stricken parents, after clinging from hope to hope, were at last compelled to accept. With the death of the last hope, the poor mother died, it was not that the father’s heart was less loving that he survived this double bereavement. It was hardly his own choice that his rugged nature did not succumb, and that he tarried behind to suffer. For the lost one’s sake, in part, in part through its own kindliness, Mr. Merrick’s heart went out towards all children. “ F’oaso, sir, give me a penny,” uttered a childish, plaintive voice one stormy night. The crowd in the street went on unheeding,. But when Mr. Merrick looked down into the sad, pinched little face, and noted the scantily-clad, shivering form, lie thought of his lost Elsie—lost live years ago. Had she lived, she would have been near the same age as the little creature before him. “ Why aren’t you at home, little one ?” he asked ; “it’s a sad night to bo out.” “ ’Cause if I doesn’t get more pennies I’ll get whipped,” answered the little girl sadly. “ I’ll go home with yon,” said Mr. Merrick, kindly ; and lie did ; and more—bo literally bought the little girl from the witch-like hag who had driven her into the streets to beg, rewarding her with a scanty crust when she succeeded, and with stripes when she failed.

Mr. Merrick didn’t teach little Ruth—that was the name his 'protegee gave herself—to call him papa. Had his Elsie lived, that would have been her right, and he could not permit another to usurp it. Guardian was the name he took, and by that little Ruth learned to address him, though her childish tongue tripped over it at first. Years glided by, and Ruth grew to be a beautiful young lady—accomplished, too ; lor her guardian had spared no expense in her training. Suitors swarmed about her—when do they not about young ladies not only handsome, but with handsome expectations ?—and that Ruth would one day succeed to Mr Merrick’s princely fortune, no 1 one doubted. Ho had us good as said so. Gordon Granger was not of the herd of flatters who paid constant court to the young beauty. At imminent personal risk, it is true, he had saved her life one day, by rushing in in time to prevent her being dashed over a precipice by a runaway team attached to the carriage in which she was taking an airing. From that first sight dated a love ardent and pure ns youth ever felt for maiden. But, though often afterwards admitted to her presence, Gordon never whispered to Ruth his heart’s secret. He was poor, and feared to be thought a wooer of her fortune. But if Gordon Granger was a backward lover, not of that ilk was Mark Brandon* who, however far be may have fallen short of Gordon in certain sterling qualities, in point of looks was not his inferior, and in assurance far excelled him. Let him who knows the outs and ins of woman’s heart tell why Ruth, at last, favored, or seemed to favor, the forward lover whom she liked not half so well, and looked coldly on the reserved one. It is easier to see why the latter should hold his peace, and seek to smother a passion for which, he felt, he had none to blame but himself. Who knows but Ruth thought it was proper punishment for Gordon’s remissnoss, not to discourage the advances of Mark Brandon ? The same reason might have prompted her to marry the latter. At any rate, when he offered to consult her guardian on the subject, she did not positively forbid. What passed between Mr Merrick and the young gentleman must have been of an agitating character; for, at the close of their interview, Mark hurried from the house without even a civil greeting to Ruth, whom he passed in his exit.

“ Ha ! lia !” laughed Mr Merrick, catching sight of Until as he came from Ids study. “ Do you know I’ve just had an offer for you ?” Hath hung her head. “ It’s withdrawn, though,” her guardian added, a merry light dancing in his eyes. “ I’m not sorry, I’m sure,” was the answer, given with a touch of haughtiness, “ But you can’t guess the reason,” said Mr Merrick. “ I’m not curious to know it,” re ■ turned Ruth, still more proudly. “Nevertheless I’ll tell you,” Mr Merrick rejoined. “ 1 apprised the gentleman of a startling piece of news. I have found my lost daughter—my little Elsie!” His voice quivered, though the smile still lingered on his face, “ She is not dead, but was stolen away. 1 have now full proofs both of

her existence find identity. When I told tins to Mr Brandon, and made known my intention to leave all my fortune to my child, he seemed a good deal put out, but, in the most gentlemanly and business-like manner, "begged pardon for troubling me, and took his leave without waiting for an answer to his offer. He has promised to call this evening, however, when 1 expect to present my daughter to a few tricuds. The look of scorn with which Until heard, the account of Mark Brandon s conduct softened into one of gladness at the tidings which, she knew, must bring so much joy to the wounded heart which had mourned so long and deeply, iolic was too unselfish to feel regret that another, better entitled, should henceforward hold the chief place in it. When Gordon Granger heard the news, which Mark Brandon had lost no time in circulating—l£ 1 may speak to her now, ’ he said to himself: and, within an hour, he sought Ruth and told her the story of his love, receiving the same answer he might have had mouths before, had he made bold to speak. Then entering Mr Merrick’s presence, with head proudly erect — “ I’ve come with your ward’s sanction,” he said, “ to ask for her hand.” “ Come this evening and I’ll give you an answer,” said the old gentleman, pleasantly. “ I’ve just found my daughter, as you’ve heard, no doubt, and can think of nothing else at present.” That evening two young men were ushered into Mr Merrick’s trout parlor. Gordon Granger and Mark Brandon were a little surprised thus to find themselves together, but, with an interchange of still’ bows, they awaited what might come

Presently Mr Merrick entered, Ruth, with suffused eyes, hanging fondly on his arm. “ Permit mo to present my daughter, gentlemen,” he said, “it was only today that 1 became possessed of the proofs that my darling Ruth, whom 1 have loved these many years, is the little Elsie lost so long ago.” “ I promised yon an answer,” he added, turning to Gordon Granger. “Here it isand he placed his daughner’s hand in that of him who had sought it for her own sake.