The heiress of McGregor

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

The matter was as she had told Marion. Mrs. Tremaine had most unexpectedly inherited from an old relative of her late husband an estate in one of the small towns near Paris, with a considerable sum of money, on the condition that she should make the old house her home for two or three years. She was not fond of Paris. She had once resided there for several years, and her remembrances of the time were far from agreeable, but she felt that it was hardly right to refuse such an accession to the small property which Kitty would have to depend upon in case of her death. The arrangement would give Kitty the advantage of excellent teachers for the ornamental parts of her education—advantages which she could hardly attain while living in Holford, and which Mrs. Tremaine was far from despising, and it would give her an opportunity of benefiting Therese, in whom she was much interested. So after much consideration she decided to close her house in Holford and go abroad.

Of course the girls were delighted. Kitty was very fond of Therese, and enjoyed the prospect of having her as a companion in her studies and amusements. Therese was happy in the thought of being able to prepare herself for a first-rate teacher, and she and Kitty held many long talks on the subject, Kitty recalling for Therese's benefit all her juvenile recollections of Paris. Kitty had been too young to share in her mother's anxieties and perplexities, and her remembrances were of unmixed pleasure: of walks under the trees in the Champs Elysées, of beautiful shops and delicious bonbons. It was no wonder that she was pleased at the thought of returning to such a Paradise.

Grandfather Beaubien at once gave his consent to the arrangement. He had unlimited confidence in Mrs. Tremaine, and he thought Therese would be better off in a new place where nobody would know or cast up to her the faults and disgrace of her father and mother. The old man was far above that mean jealousy which makes some parents in such cases resent any improvement in the circumstances of a child as an injury to themselves.

"Go, go, my good child," he had said to Therese. "Thou hast been a dutiful daughter, and no doubt the blessing will go with thee. Madame is an angel of goodness and rectitude. She will care for thee, she will educate thee. Thou wilt reflect honour on her and on thy own family. For me, I have dutiful children to care for me in my age and enough for all my simple wants. Be a good child, be obedient to Madame, forget not to pray for thy grandfather and thy unfortunate parents, and the blessing of the good God go with thee. If thou shouldst go to Normandy, try to seek out the graves of thy kindred and lay some flowers thereon for me."

As Therese was going toward Madame Duval's neat little house, she met Doctor Gates in his carriage, who drew up to the side of the road to speak to her.

"Are you going to your grandmother's, Therese? I have just been to see her."

"To see grandmother! I did not know she was sick," said Therese in alarm. "Did she send for you?"

"Not she indeed," answered the doctor, smiling. "Madeline Lenoir told me she was not well, and I stopped at her house. I think there is a great change in her, Therese. Cannot you persuade her to have somebody with her? She is not fit to live alone any more."

"I have felt unhappy about her being alone for some time," answered Therese; "but she is not willing to take any stranger into her house."

"That is very natural," replied Doctor Gates; "but it does not alter the facts of the case; she is no longer capable of taking care of herself and her house as she has done, of making her own fire and cooking her own meals. Madeline says she goes in as often as she can, but of course she has her own family to attend to. Turn it over in your mind, Therese, and see what can be done about it. Good-bye."