ROMANTIC STORY.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXVI, Issue 55, 10 July 1913, Page 5

ROMANTIC STORY.

‘‘A STRANGE NEW WORLD. 1 ’

tale of two fosterlings

[Per Press Association.] Palmerston N., July 8. To-day in Palmerston North a young lady, a member of a church choir, has found herself in a strange new world. Her story begins sixteen years ago, when a chubby mite of femininity entered the home of a retired sea captain and his spouse. She came as a fosterchild, and her mother brought her. With skipperlike punctiliousness the old sea salt had papers of adoption duly executed, and in law as also in affection the old couple became father and mother to the little stranger. They bestowed upon the fosterling a care and solicitude that not even the bigger brother in the house could usurp. She bore their name, and never at any time- doubted that she wa their child. Much care was lavished upon her moral and social develop input, but in the practical matters of life, however, she. was not coddled. She remembers—for it was out lecently her life on a farm, where the aging couple aimed to lay the foundations ol a livelihood for their lusty boy. He memory is quite green of her skill in handling a plough team, and of th( vigor wherewith her shapely shouldei titlted the plough handle. She was fas 1 becoming a self-reliant woman. Ther the hand of death removed the skip per ; the farm was abandoned ; mothe; and daughter retired to a Palmersto* villa ; and the big hoy began the battle of manhood at Auckland, where he found a wife. It was the mothei s intention to preserve her secret am I continue her care of the young woman I till she attained a position of indeI pendence. But a mortal sicknesi ■ seised the old lady, and a few day: ago, in consultation with her doctor I she learned that her end is very near In arranging her will she confided tr her church minister the secret she had so long concealed. In effect she said to her daughter:— • “You are not really my daughter I You are the daughter of a Spanisl I lady and her English husband, win are living apart. Being a baby when your brothers and sisters were grown up, you were entrusted to us in order that your mother might b© free tf I carry on her own affairs. Your young : est sister was then at college. You I eldest sister is now married. Id r | rot know the whereabouts of your twr . brothers or your father. The lady whr used to visit us and whom I taught you to call “Auntie” is your mothershe is fond of public life. Your fraternal grandparents are of independent means in England. Aou have an nncle in New Zealand, who is a doctor. Our boy, whom you have regarded as your brother, is not youi brother. He is not related to you o; to us. Like yourself, he was adopted by us. Who he really is lam not at liberty to tell you.” 1 The story is nearly ended. The medi cal attendant has located the doctor uncle in a southern town. In the child b young days he sometimes visited her. i, and became much attached to her | desiring to adopt her. Through him no doubt (says the correspondent of the Auckland Star), all the other relatives will he traced. But just now the young choifsinger’s face is turned toward the grandparents in England. Her foster-brother (with his wife] I from Auckland is now visiting the suffering patient at Palmerston. Be tween the two fosterlings the estate of the late skipper—valued in fom figures—will he equally divided.