Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 27, 2025
My glance fell upon the groups of children scattered along our path, and I wondered which among them might prove to be Roger Matherson's little one.
The half-framed thought of such a possibility made my heart throb with dread apprehension, as I set my lips together in firm resolve. What had become of Roger Matherson's orphan child? 'T was indeed strange that I could gain no trace of the little girl. At the Fort they said she was with the Kinzies, at Kinzies' they told me she was at the Fort.
"I had even forgotten that I mentioned it," I answered, surprised at this query at such a time. "But it is strictly true. While upon his death-bed Elsa Matherson's father wrote to mine, they were old comrades in the great war, and I was sent hither to bring the orphan girl eastward.
"My mother was indeed French, but my father was an American soldier," she said rapidly, as if eager to have the explanation ended. "You never asked my name, save that one night when we first met amid the sand, and then I gave you only that by which I have been most widely known. None except my father ever called me Elsa; to all others I was always Toinette. But I am Roger Matherson's only child."
"Did you see that white woman there, with the long skirt and red hair?" "Ay!" he answered as though he scarce had faith in his own eyes. "I marked not the color of her hair, but I saw the lass, and, by Saint George! she looked to me like old Roger Matherson's daughter."
"You go upon this strange journey willingly, my son?" "Yes, father." "You will be both kind and thoughtful with Roger Matherson's little girl?" "She shall be to me as my own sister." I felt the confiding clasp of his fingers, and realized how much to him would be a successful termination of my journey. "Kiss your mother, John," he said, a trustful look coming into his kindly eyes.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking