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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1887-2-11, Page 7FBB. 1.1, 1,!57 Inall,FSFIFfialiarANCIMISSITAMraRa'RDSa iA VAGRANT WIPE. Br Is. Femme e .Anther of "Tia house ox ane MUSTY," "Ar TIM Wenzel; Menge," Pro. time passea eau seal ne ala um appear. At half -past four, just eh she was do. oiding that she could wait no longer, that sho nnusb go to Stephen's lodging and find' out what had detained him, she heard a knock at the door, which how. ever she recognised, to her bitter disap. pointment, not as Harry's, but George's. He had brought William to see her, that young soldier having just arrived in town, and being mad to have a glimpse of his old play fellow, and bell her how well he was getting on in hie profession. Poor Annie could give but a mechani. cal show of interest to 6he young fellow's eager outpourings, and at last she broke down. William I cannot listen now " sho said, with tears in her eyes. "You know it is not for want of iuterest; but —George," she cried suddenly, turning to her elder brotbor.in-law, " Harry has gone to see Stephen, angrier than I ever saw himefo c 1 b re. I caul to 1Y ou why y and I are reconciled. now. But Marr r . It seems you knew all about his being at Kirby Park. Yon might have told me 1 And he promised to bo with me at four o'clock, " she went on, growing more and more excited and incoherent. " Yon see it is a quarter to five, and he is not hero! Ile was very angry; and I am afraid something has happened. I must go and see i " There was no restraining her. In tan minutes they were all three ou the way to Stephen's lodging. As they ap- proached the house, George caught sight of somthing from the cab -window which made him turn suddenly to his sister.in-law and advise her to return while he wont in and spoke to Harry. She saw the alarm 10 his eyes, and, steadying herself to speak valley, she refused, So Cho cab stopped; and then Annie saw that there was a rough crowd outside the house and a policeman keep- ing the people away from the door. George sprang out; but silo followed so closely behind him that; the ceeeb: the policeman's answer to les low -tweed question— What is the matter ? " "Man shot, I believe, sir. " Annie kept quite stilt, quite calm, while Goorgo induced the policeman to let them pass in; and, as soon as the door was opened, she slipped past her brother-in-law, who had not known she was so close, and flow first up the stairs, swiftly and silently as a bird. " IIe ]las broken his word to me, " sho thought in agony. " Ho has scattered all our happiness; and now— Oh, whore is be? I dare not go in ! Per. haps already they leavo led him away to —prison. Oh, Harry, Harry 1" She was standing outside the door of the sitting -room, whicb was shut. Shc seemed to hoar a noise of low voices ; but she was not sure that it was not the singing in her own ears. Ab last, with colli weak fingers, she turned the handle and wont in. The only figura in the room was that of the cripple, lying motionless on the sofa. Brought thus abruptly into what she believed to bo the presence of a dead luau, Annie tottered to the table for support, her face white and damp with horror; but Stephen turned, raised his bond and confronted her ; and sho gave a low cry of relief when sho saw that he was alive. "Then harry has not herb yon ? " she whispered falteringly. "No,"said the cripple, "it was not he. You will never forgive me, Annie; you will bate me. 1 shot him! " Annie did not cry this time, did nob even start; she stood tapping with her fingers upon the table, struck euddenly into utter numbness. She did not feel his trembling hands clinging to her mantle as he fell at her foot and im- plored her to speak to him, to scold him, and not to stand before him as if his words had killed her. She did not hear the door of the bedroom open or feel the tough of a stranger's hand. But the new -comer was a doctor ; and, when she woke presently from the sort of stupor which had seized her, he said quietly— "Now, Mrs. Braithwaite, if you will remain calm, you shall see your hus- band." " I am calm," Said she simply. She could not have cried, or moaued, or lamented her fate, if her life had de- pended upon her showing some emotion. So ho nod her into the next room ; and there, not dead, but sitting in a faded chintz arm -chair, with his left arm bound up, was Harry. It was then that ber calmness gave way. She was not very demonstrative indeed ore the pas- sion of joy which lit up and transfigured her whole face ; but she fell upon her knees by the side of his chair, shaking from head to foot. "1 thought—you were—killed! " whis- pered the. "Why, my poor darling, who told you so? " he asked tenderly. "I shall never forgive Stephen," sho hissed, clenching her teeth. "Yes, you will, Annie, Ho is to be pilled, not I—only we mustn't tell him that I He hasn't even ]hurt me much— the arm Di not broken ; the only danger possible to me through 11 was the loss ,elf blood; and, if I keep quict, I shall bo all right again in no time. Is that George's vowel beer in the next room ? " "Yes ; he came with ms and William." "1 musb Ret William to come down with me to leirby Park for a day or two till 1 eau ride again. Heil be very glad to come and Ito have him. If 1 had to stay indoors close, 1 think I should throw myself off the roof." Pb, Hapxy, wgp't you have inc ? " t? a e�sh. , n .tai iflllt enttenta. TET. T, RRUSSELS POST "Why, bow can I, my 4ts ling? X know you won't break your engagement at the theatre," "No; but I'll go down to Kirby Park every night after the performance, and come bank each evening in time to dross at the theatre," "But won't that tire you too much, Annie ? Itis more than an hour's jeer - may by train," he said; but his eyes flashed at the proposal. "1Wby," said Annie shyly Iaugbing a 115510, " 1 wanted to do so all the time I thought of it yesterday; but then I de. ceded to wait till you aeked me; and, after ail," she added, with mock poau. lance, "I've had to salt myself." So that night, after the performance, Annie, escorted by George, who made what excuses he could forn of having revealed to her that he had heard of Harry's residence at Kirby Park, drove to Waterloo, where she found William and her husband. The three went down to Kirby Park together by the last train, very tired, especially Annie, but very happy. The next; day sbe and William bad a MR together, while Harry was holding a business interview in the library ; but William found that it was not quite like the old time at the Grange. e Hasn't it improved Harry to have something to do ? " said the young wife proudly. " Oh, he's well enough 1 " said William, with enthusiasm. "But there's a sad falling off in you, Annie,. You're quite spoilt for a sister-in-law. Why, now, when anything amuses you, you look Best at Harry 1 " ('...tPTER XXIX. Moro than six years have passed sine° the night Annie returned with her bus. band to Kirby Park, and there axe Braith- waites once more at Garstone Grange. For Harry, with a 'Mee and loving wife at his side to comfort him in failure, on. courage him in effort, and rejoice with him in success, has worked on in the career best suited to him and prospered, while she too has striven successfully in her profession until the time has come on which the hopes of both have for years been fixed, and they have bought back the old home of Jlarry's boyhood, where also so many of the stormy events of their early wedded life took place. It is Cbristmas.time,their first Christ- mas since their return to the Grange; and Annie and her husband aro expect- ing some welcome guests to celebrate this event and Annie's final renunciation of her ambition for that entire devotion to home and husband which has now become her chief delight. For Annie has left the stage, with its struggles, its failures and its triumphs, for ever—not without some regrets at bidding farewell to old friends, old usages, and a life which had hes many pleasures for her, bob with now happiness in-tbo thought t hat she can now devote herself moro an- ' • sely than before to tho husband and :Idren in whom all her affection is trod. For in the long dim picture- ellcry whore Harry saw the demure little governess playing battledore and shuttlecock years ago two fair-haired boys are laughing and sbouting at play. Their father is rather disappointed that they have his own blue oyes and curly fair hair, and he is in great anxiety lest they should grow up like him in mind, instead of being ' clever" like their mother; but Annie is troubled with ee fears, and is quite contented with boys as they are Two more Braithwaites lie i,, family vault in Garstone ohnrch1,.,,., The first be go to his resb was Stephen, who lived but very few months after that miserable scene in which ho shot his cousin in his desperate wretched- ness. Those months were the most; peaceful of his unhappy life, for hopes. sed them at Kirby Park, to wbichAnnie had herself gently persuaded him to come. She never .wearied in her pa- tient devotion to bile., in her attention to his wants, in her bright endeavours to amuse and please brm. Harry se- conded her efforts with gentleness which was touching in the big strong man ; and the oripple'e feelings were too strong and his penetration too keen for bine not to appreciate rightly every kind act and tone in the people aborlt him, Wilfred lies in the vault too; he was killed by a fall from his horse in tho hunting -field on the winterfoilow.ing the sale of the Grange, and they buried him beside his father and cousin. A better fate is in store for Cho youngeat brobher,William. " The child" as now Captain Braithwaite, and his letters to Garstone aro full of references to the loveliest girl that ever was soon and mysterious hints that he has a sur- prise in store for them—from which and a certain incoherency of style in his let- ters Annie does not need much pen°- , oration to decide Raab he is going to bo married. Sir George passes most of the year in chambers in town, and has never found the courage to begin a new battle with fate; he is still unmarried, and there seeing every probability that the title will pass in course of time to lIarry and his eldest son. He and William are now at the Graugo to spend Christmas with Harry and his wife; they are all expecbing two other guests, for whom the warmest welcome of all has been prepared. Lady Braille. wait°, growing old now, and reconciled to her daughter.in-law at last, is about to roturn to the home whore her wedded life was passed, never to leave it again until the time comes for her too to sleep peacefully by her husband's side in Garstone churchyard; and Lilian i1 coming with her to spend a week at the old home. The Winton sun is setting whou Annie, on the alert for the sound of wheels, starts up from her ewe in tine morning. room and goes out on to the doorstep with William and George to receive Lady Braithwaite and her daughter, whom Harry bad gone to meet at Beck- ham station, Harry, who jumps out of the carriage first, gives way to his eider brother, and it ie on Sir George's arm that the stately old lady leans a5 the stupe down from the carriage and meets her daughter.in.law. Lilian follows. She is thin and pale, and looks much older than Amnio, who has recovered al. most all the beauty of the shy little governess of eighteen who first attrac- ted the attention of the wild Grange boys more than ten years ago, Lilian'i love of excitement and pleasure has told upon her health ; the is not exactly an unhappy woman or au unloving wife but bar passionate nature has fouud something wanting in life, and in the eagerness of a vain search for it she bas grown old before ber time. Wh1'u they are all together in the drawing -room after dinner, and the little boys, having begun to make themselves obnoxious by playing at ball over their grandmother's head, have been kissed and sent to bed, the talk turns to town and what is going on there. "Oh Annie haveY ou heard of Cho success of your old friend Aubrey Cooke ?" asks Lilian. " I went to see ' him in this new piece inwhich they say be is so good, and I never felt nay- , self so entirely parried away by any acting before. Everybody says he will ' be the greatest actor of the day." " Ah, I thought I was going to be the greatest actress once 1" Annie says, rather slowly. " Then he bas fulfilled his ambition, and you have given up yours unfulfilled. Don't you regret it, just a little ? Come —be candid." Lilian speaks in a low voice, meant only for her sister.in-law's ear. Annie hesitates, looking down at the fire with an expression which it is not easy to read. She is startled by finding ber bus - band's hand laid quietly on her shoul- der, He has overheard these last words of Lilian's, notices hie wife's reluctance to answer, and leaves his seat to speak to her. " Are you sorry you are not the wife of a great actor instead of a plain coon. try gentleman, Annie?" No, not in the least; 'never thought of such a thing." " Thou why are you looking so thoughtful ?" " Any news of people one has known well and lost sight of seta ono think- ing.I could give you some more news of him liut that I am afraid it would make you sad." "Never mind ; I should like to hear it. Go on t" " His home life is a very unhappy one. They say ho ill-troats his wife ; I know they are haver seen together. George told me all about it yesterday ; but I did not tell you, because 1 knew it would pain you. however, it is something for him to have satisfied his ambition,' and you see he has clone that." " While I have let mine go—" "Just to settle down into a mere quiet wife and mother. Is that what you aro thinking? Do you regret it, Annie ?" Sho turns her soft dark eyes, bright in the glow of the firelight, towards him, with her head raised proudly. " No, no ; I have never regretted it— I never shall. My ambition was eery strong, but I did not throw it away ; I kept it and clung to it until it was swal- lowed up in something stronger stili ; and I think you can guess what that is." Talk and laughter are going on brightly round them among the mem- bers of the reunited family gathered round the glowing fire. Harry does not answer bis wife in words; but the firm pressure of his hand as it clasps hers unseen by the rest teile her that he un- derstands that the passion which had absorbed all others in the brilliant ac- tress and the true -hearted woman is her 'eve for him. FLORENCE 'WARDEN. 0112R :ND. THE ACTRESS' DAUGHTER; o10 THI; MISTItiS O1 IRICHMOND HOUSE, A om WZ510NQ AND litEll55)Atp n, Ily efrr. NAY AGNES FLliMING, Author of"Lost Vox. n Wanion,"o:trawl Peter's Secret,' Etc., Ante, CHAPTER I. C1iu15011As EVE, 71,01, ou more wood! the ulna is 01,111; Bub lot it whistle as it will, Wall keep our Christmas mooty still. —Score. "Lori Lor I what a nighb f:t, is, any- way. nyway. Since I was tree both, and that's thirty -live —no, forty-five years 001110 next June, I never hoer] sich win' as that thorn, fie to boar the roof off) Well, this is Chri.,itrans Eve, and wo ginorally do hay a spoil o' weather 'bout this time )ler" you Fly! Fly you little blank imp you t if you don't stop that falling asleep over the fire, and abir your lazy stumps, 11.1 do you up and give you shah a swithbin' as you aver had a all your born days. Ar-r-r•r 1 there 1 vow to Sam if that darned old tabby cat hain't got hoe uoso stunk into the apple sass I Soak I you hussy 1 Flyyy 1 you ugly libtle black ace -o' -spades I will yon wako up afore I twist your heck for youf" And the speaker of this spirited ad, dross—a tall, t11iu, pasteboard female, as erect as a ramrod and as flab as a atingle, with a bard, uncompromising face, and hawk -like gray eye—oaudht hold of the drowsy little ilarkoy nodding in the ohimney.aorner and shook her as if she bad been flourishing a little fruit tree in harvest time. "P.pleaeo, Mise Jerry, 'ecus° me -1 didn't go for to do it," stammered Ply, with a very wide.awake and startled face; "I wasn't asleep, old Mist--" "Oh I you wasn't asleep, old Mist— wasn't you," sneered Miss J erasha Glory Ann Skamp, the sonorous and high. sounding title elaimee by the antiquated maiden lady as her i'igiibful property ; "you wasn't asleep, 'wasn't you? Oh, no 1 in course you wasn't I You never Bleep, at all, do you ? Betsy Periwinkle never runs off with the meat, and the cold vibbals, or drinks the milk, or pokes her nose into the apple -sass, or punkin slap -jack, while you're a suoonin' in the corner, does she ? Ain't you 'shamed o' yourself, you nasty little blank image, to stand up there and talk to one as has been a mother to you, year iu and year out, like that 1 Ar Lord' 1 there ain't nothin, but ungratybood in this 'ere world. Betsy Periwinkle, you ugly brae I see you a Makin' at the apple sass, but just let me ketch you at it agin, that's all. Oh, my stars and thingum. bobs 1 the way I'm afflicted with that lazy little nigger and that thievin' oat, and me a poor lone woman, tool If it afn't enough to make a body go and de something to themselves I should admire to know what is. Here, you FIy t jump up and fry the pancakes for supper, and put the tea to draw, and put blab j ul, may - cake in the oven, and then set the table, and don't be lama' around like a singed cat all the time." And having delivered herself of tbeee commands all in a breath, with the air of a Napoleon in petticoats, Miss Jer- usha marched, with the tramp of a grenadier,outofthe kitchen into bhe"bast room," drew several yards of stocking from an apparently bottomless pocket, deposited herself gingerly in the em- braces of a cushioned rocking -chair, the only sort of embrace Miss Jerusha had any faith in, and began knitting away as if the fate of nations depended on it. And while she sits there, straight, rigid and erect as a church steeple, let me describe her and the house itself more minutely. A New England "best room!" Who does not know what it looks like ? Tho shining, yellow -painted floor, whereon no sacrilegious dust ever rests; the six stiff-backed, cane -seated chairs, stand- ing around like sentinels on duty, in the exact position to an inch wherein they have stood ever since they were chairs; the huge. black chest of drawers that looms up dark and ominous between the two front windows, those windows them- selves glittering, shining, flashing, per- fect jewels of cleanliness, protected from flies and other "noxious insocts" by stiff, rustling green paper blinds; the table opposite the lire -place, whereon lies, in solemn, solitary grandeur, a large family Bible, fox's Book of Martyrs, the Pilgrim's Progress, and Robinson Crime. Mise Jerusha, being frightfully son- siblo,as ladies at a curtain ago always are, looked upon all works of fiction with a steady contempt too intense for words.; and therefore Robinson Ornsoe remained as unmolested on the table as be had iu his sea-girt island from the day a do - luded friend had presented it to her until the present hour. 1n fact, Miss JerushaSkampi did not affect literature of any kind much, and looked upon reading as a downright waste of time and patience. On Sundays, it is true, she considered it a religious duty to spell through a chapter in the Bible,bogin- ning at the first of Genesis, and march. ing right straight through, in spits of all obstacles, to the end of Revelations—a feat sho had once performed in her life, and was now half way through again. The bard words and proper names in the Old Testament were a serious trial to Miss Jerusha, and, combined with the laziness of her little negro maid Fly, and the dishonest propensities of her cab, Betsy Periwinkle, were the ohiof troubles and tribulations of bar life. Miss Jen- usha'e opinion was that it would have been just as oozy for the children of Ieraolto have been born John Smith or Peter Jones as Shadraoh,Meshaoh and Abednego, and a groat deal easier for posterity. Next to the Bible "Fox's Book of Martyrs" was a work wlscreiu Miss Jerusha's soul delighted, and won- derful was her appreciation and approval of the gbastly pictures which embellish- ed that saintly volume. "Tho Pilgrim's Progress" she passed over with silent contempt as a book "nobody could sco the pint of." Besides Cho best room, Miss Jerusha's cottage contained a kitchen about the size of a weli.gxown baud -box, and over bead there were two sleeping apart- ments, one occupied by that auoient vas- 5ar nerselx, and the other used as 8 store -room and lumber -room generally. Fly and Betsy Periveinlde sought their repose aucl shake=down before the kitchen fire, being enjoined oaoli nighb before she left them by Miss Jerusha to "keep au eye on Cho house and thiage;" but as Fly generally snored from the moment bhelasbflutter of Miss jorusha'sdress ail. appeared until a sound shaking by that lady woke her next morning, and Botsy Poriwinklo, after indulging m a sanies of short naps, amused herself with recon. rioitring Cho promises and feloniously purloining everything she could lay her paws ou throb seemed good and eatable, itis supposed the admonitions were not very rigidly attended to, There was not much danger of robbers, 1 obb°xs, liow°vor, as the, cottage was sibtated nearly two miles front auy other habitation, on the very outskirts of the flourishing township of Burnfiold, a spot lonely and isolated enough to stub evou the hermit -like taste of Miss Jornella, The lack windows of the oobtago cum - 'Mandela view or the sea, spreading away and away until lost in the blue horizon beyond. Frere the frout was eeen the forest pati), lonely and silent, with the dark pine woods bounding the vision and spreading away formates. I s the roar was a small garden, filled in summer with vegetablee of all sorts, and the product of this garden formed the principal sonl'ao of Mies Jerusha's in. ODIC. The old maid was not rich by any moans, but with the vegetables and poultry she raised herself, the stockings she knit, the cloth she wove, the wool she dyed, the candy she made and sold to the Burnlield grocers, and the sewing sho "took iu," she managed to live coin. fortably enough, and "lay up something," as sho said herself, "for a rainy day"—it figure of speech which was popularly supposed to refer to the times of advers- ity and old age. A strong•minded,clear-headed,sharp. tongued, wide-awake, uncompromising specimen of femaledom "away down East" was Miss Jerusha. Never singe the time she had first donned pantalettes. and had "swopped" her rag doll for Mary Ann Brown's china mug, could that respectable individual, the oldest inhabitant, recollect any occasion where. in Miss Jerusha had not got the best of the bargain, whatever that bargain might be. Though never remarkable at any time for her personal beauty, yet tradi- tion averred that her thriftiness and smartness had on one or two occasions so far captivated certain Jonathan of her district that they gallantly tendered .her their beam, hand, and brand-new swallow -tails. But, Looking upon man- kind as an inferior race of animals, made more for ornament than use, Mies Jer- usha had contemptuously refused them, and had marched on with grim determin- ation through the vale of years in her single blessedness up to her present mature age of five -and -forty. The personal appearance of the lady could hardly be called prepossessing at first sight, or second bight either, for that matter. Unusually tall, and un- usually slim, Miss Jerusha looked not unlike a female hop -pole, and her figure was not to say improved by bar dress, which never could be persuaded to ap- proach her ankles, and was so narrow that a long step seemed rather a hazard- ous experiment. Her hair, which was of a neutral tint between red and orange, a vague hue commonly known as "car- roty," was disfigured by no cap or other sort of headgear, but tethered in a tight knot behind, and then forcibly secured. Her face looked not unlike that of a yel- low parchment image as she then sat knitting in the red firelight, rocking her- self back and forward in a rheumatic old chair that kept up a horrible creeehy-orawohy as she squeaked back and forth. The night was Christmas Eve, and unusually wild and stormy, even for that season. The wind blew in terrible gusts, shrieking wildly through the bate arms of the pines, drifting the snow into great hills, and driving the piercing sleet clamorously against the windows. Miss Jerusha drew closer to the fire, with a shiver, and paused a moment to listen to the wild winter storm. "My gracious 1 what a blast o' win' that there was. Lee the old Satan ain't been let loose to -night my name's not Jerusha Skamp. Go out and bring in some more wood, Fly, and don't let Betsy Periwinkle eat the tea things while yoe'ro gone. My-yey conscience! how it blows—getting worse and worse every minute, too. If there's any ships on the river to -night the first land they make will be the bottom, or I'm no j erdge. And I oughter be, I think," said Miss Jerusha, administering a kick to Betsy Periwinkle, as that amiable quadruped began some friendly advances toward her ball of stocking yarn, "swain' I've lived here since I was born, and that's forty-five years come next Juno. I should not wonder now if some shift- less, good -for nothing vagabones was to 'low themselves for to get ketched in the storm and come to mo to let 'em in and keep 'am all night. Well, Miss Jerusha; don't you think you see yourself adoing of it, though 1 People seems to think I was made specially by Providence to 'tend auto 'em, and make yarb tea for them to swaller as is sick, and look atter them as is well, whenever they get ketohed in a storm, or a uightmare, or anything. Humph! Iguess nobodynever seen any small sand, commonly called mite -stones, in my eyes, and never will if I can help it, What on airtb keeps, that there black little viper now, I won- der. You, Fly 1" "Yes, old Mist', here I is," answered Fly, comiug blustering in like a sable' goddess of the wind, loaded dowu with wood. "Au' oh, Miss Jerry, elidegiloste as ober was is ober in dab ter inforally ole house 'long de road." "Ghosts, ugh 1" said Miss Jerusha, with a contemptuous snarl, forth° worthy spinster despised "spirits from the vasty deep" as profoundly as sho did man- kind. "Don't make a greater fool o' yourself, you misfortunate little nat'ral you, than Cho Lord himself mads yon. Pat some wood on the Ars, and bo off and burry u, supper." "Miss Jelly, I 'clars I seed it my own blessed self," protested Fly, with hor- ror-stricken oyes. "1 jes did, as plain as I see you now, en' if as how you doesn't believe me, Miss ,Terry, go and look for yorsell " "Lord bless Cho child! what is she talking about ?" said Miss Jerusha, turn- ing round so sharply that little lily prop - ed back in alarm. -.anuses, nines Jerry, wlilnipccc,l cuo poor little. darkey. "Ghosts! Ply, look here! You want ' me to switch you within an inch o' your life," said Miss Jerusha, laying dawn her . knitting and comproseiug leer lrpe. "Miss Jerry, I can't help it; I jes can't. Kf you're to kill me, I did see om, and you can see 'ma yorself el you'll only look out ob do winder," sob - TO BE CONTINUED. co a cf- bhp CDC7p Oj CW • 11 kj CD • CD W 1c+J CD • CD • p c+ rn FW et- c ' 1 CD aa C"P CD V Q 0 11 P ct CD CD P m pi)i hi pc. CD 0 0 CD CID p ix LD 0 o CD CD C Cil tilagst