Virgies Inheritance | Page 2

bitter sigh.
The young girl, her own face now blanched to the hue of death, laid down her work, arose, and moved swiftly to her father's side, where she knelt by his chair.
"Papa, do not talk so. You must not leave me," she cried, in a voice of agony. "I cannot spare you. There must be something to help you--to build up your strength. Let us go back home, where you can have the best medical advice."
The man sat up in his chair, stopping her with a gesture almost of despair.
"Home!" he cried, hoarsely. "Virgie, we have no home but this. You know that I am already the same as dead to every one but you; that even our real name is sunk in oblivion."
"But, papa, you must try to live for my sake," Virgie cried, clasping her trembling hands about his emaciated arm, and shuddering as she felt how frail it was. "If you will not go back, let me at least send for Dr. Truel. He is skillful. He was always our friend. He will cheer you and give you something to build you up, and he will keep our secret, too. Oh, you ought to have had advice long ago. What shall I do in this dreary place if you leave me alone?"
The sick man unclasped her clinging hands from his arm, and drew her slight form to him in a tender embrace.
"My darling," he said, fondly, "that is just what I wish to talk with you about; so calm yourself and listen to me. Neither Dr. Truel, nor any other doctor, can help me now; if I had called him a year ago he might have prolonged my life; but my pride would not let me face any one whom I had ever known. But I will not speak of the past; it is too familiar and painful to both of us. It is useless, however, for me to think for a moment of going back, even to die, in the home where we were once so happy, for only disgrace is connected with our name--disgrace and wrong, all the more keenly felt because unmerited."
"Hush, Virgie!" he continued, as a shuddering sob burst from the breast pressed so closely to his, "you must not give way so. I did not mean to alarm you unnecessarily by what I have said; I may not leave you for some time yet. I may be spared for a few months, perhaps until autumn, but I feel that the time has come to arrange some definite plan for your future. I must, however, give up my work, for I have no longer strength to carry it on; but if there was only some one whom I could trust to take charge of my claim. I might even yet reap something of benefit from it to add to the hoard that I have been saving for you against this emergency."
"But, papa, I would much rather that you should spend every dollar that you have, if it would prolong your life; if I lose you, I have not a friend in the world."
The man heaved a heavy sigh, for too well he realized the truth of her words.
"My dear," he returned, with tender pathos, "if it were possible for me to regain my health, at any sacrifice, I would gladly make it for your sake. But I know that it cannot be, and my care now must be to make the best provision that I can for you."
"I have been very successful since coming here," he went on, speaking more cheerfully, "more so than I ever dared to hope, and the claim promises much for the future and ought to bring a good price if sold; so you will have quite a snug little fortune, my Virgie, and I trust that your lot in life will yet be happy, in spite of the dark cloud that has so shadowed it in the beginning. What say you to writing to my old friend, Laurence Bancroft, of New York, confiding you to his care after----"
"Oh, my father, you make me utterly wretched," cried the young girl, reaching up her arms and clasping them convulsively about his neck, while she lifted her tear-stained face appealingly to him.
He bent forward and kissed her white forehead softly with his trembling lips.
"Bear with me a little longer, my daughter, and then we will never mention this again while I live," he returned, huskily. "Laurence Bancroft, as you know, was a dear friend of my early life. He has a cultivated wife, and two daughters about your own age; he will believe me when I tell him the truth regarding our misfortunes, and will, no doubt, give you a home in his own family, and care for your interests until--woman's