The Herald, 1908-10-30, Page 3!iA ;fir 1,6 i reerielo f '
Jl I .40.90,41./. ?MP'
Lynnewolde has undergone so many
alterations and improvements that no
traee of the old house exists. It is now
a stately, magnificent mansion, with
turrets and gable raids, •and oriel win -
windows, with park end pleasaurnce, gar-
den, lawn and lake. The stately trees
that surround it are noted for their
age and beauty; that grand old cedar
in
the midst of the lawn is said to be
the finest in England, and Lord Lynne
was prouder of it than of all Lynne-
wolde.
The carriage drove slowly up the long
avenue of chestnut trees. The hall -door
vias flung wide open when Philip alight-
ed, and the old butler, together with
some of the other servants, stood ready
to receive him.
"How is he?” cried Philip, eagerly.
"How is Lord Lynne?"
"He is dead, my lord," was the grave
reply. "He died hall an hour ago."
While he lived Philip could never des -
those few words made upon him. He
had known for many years that at some
time he should be Lord Lynne, but it
had always seemed to him a remote
contingency; he had not built upon it.
Ile had never 'attempted to realize the
time when Lynnewolde would be his
and he should be Lord. Lynne. It came
to him now with a sudden shock that
seemed to divide him at once from his
past life, and open a wonderful future
to him. Like one in a dream he follow-
ed the man who showed him to his room.
"I wish to be alone for a short time,"
he said, "and then I will see Miss Lynne."
He felt it needful that he should be
alone. He wanted to realize his position
—to feel at home in it, before the scrut-
inizing eyes of the world were upon him.
Only three hours ago and he was poor,
• comparatively obscure, and was begin-
ning to lcse himself in a pleasant love -
dream. It was only tbree hours since he
stood with Florence Wyver.ne, trying
to read the secret of her blushing face,
and shy, sweet eyes. Yet it seemed to
him that he had lived a life since then.
He was in a new world.
611e...0?f•t.Y9t k.t,i.,,„;,t,.IT,NI
on the Monday; and the will was to be
read immediately afterward.
it was a dull, rainy day; and dreary
enough looked the long, black procession,
winding among the trees in the park. It
was over at last; Stephen, Lord Lynne,
• vas laid by his father; the vault was
closed; the mourners returned home; the
blinds that had been kept elpse were
thrown open, and the light of day once
more found its way into the sumptuous
apartments of Lynnewolde.
The will was to be read in the library.
Lord Lynne, Sir Harry Leigh (the late
Lord's dearest friend), Mr. Gregson, with
his clerk and another solicitor, wore
present. The two young.; ladies had both
declined to appear; they, requested Mr.
Gregson to wait upon than afterwards:
and he, who knew the terms of the will,
thought it quite as well they did so.
A bright fire burned in the grate; the
library, a large and very handsome room,
looked doubly cozy and inviting when,
through the large windows, was seen the
dull, leaden sky, the dripping trees, and
the incessant falling rain.
"I shall not detain you long, gentle-
men," said Mr. Gregson, as his listeners
grouped themselves round him. "I know
the will is not a very complicated one,
for I drew it up myself."
Not very complicated, certainly, but
very strange. Philip, Lord. Lynne, had
wondered at tunes about his uncle's
money; he had wondered whether he
should have any share of it, but he never
for a moment dreamed of anything so
strange es the bequest he now heard.
After some few legacies and anuities to
old servants, Mr. Gregson read:
"To my nephew, Philip Lynne, who
succeds me, and who by right of entail
inherits Lynnewolde, I sive and bequeath
the exact half of my fortune, the sum
of two hundred thousand pounds, on one
condition, which is, that within the next
two years he shall marry one of my
daughters, Inez or Agatha Lynne. To
my daughters I leave the sum of one
hundred thousand pounds each.
"If my nephew does not comply with
this condition, I leave to my daughters
the sum of two hundred thousand pounds
each, the whole of my fortune I receiv-
ed from my late wife, being thus equal-
ly divided betwen them."
Four executors were appointed,
with the usual formalities the
closed.
"A very just and equitable will," re-
marked Sir Harry Leigh, as lir. Greg-
son folded up the parchments; "this
condition, to my mind, being a remark-
ably pleasant one."
' Lord. Lynne made no
remark. Of all
possible contingencies, he
pected this. Ile had thought it very
probable that his uncle might not leave
him any money at all bu
ormous sum should be his On bo strauee
a condition bewildered
honor be it recorded, th
make up his mind then
the money should be h'
that, if he had spoken those few words
which he intended to speak to Florence
Wyverne, he would have at once react:
known his engagement, a
have been no further que
money. But he had not done so
was a free man; and several times ;
ing the last few days it had crossed his
mind that he had been too
ing he loved Lord Wyverne's daughter.
She was gifted with a strange, winning
beauty; her charming,
childish manner had fascinated
he remained with her much longer, he
would have asked her
But when the charm was at its her vht,
he was separated from
he cane to reflect upo
days, he was surprised
to find how small was the share she
had in his thoughts and plans.
The solicitor bade him "good-mo.v-
ing!" Sir Harry Leigh, and the others
who had assembled to hear the reading
of the will, left him; and Lord Lynne
sat alone by the fire in the large library
thinking very anxiousl
CHAPTER
They were not all Iight or selfish
thoughts that priced through his mind.
Be resolved not to live in vain, but to
use the position, the influence, and the
rank that would be his, to good pur-
poee. When that hour was ever he rang
the bell, and asked the servant who
answered it to show him to the room
where Lord Lynne lay. Then he knelt
by the side of that silent figure, for
whom all the glories of the world were
over. He was not ashamed to pray that
when he, too, came to die he might not
have lived in vain.
In the simplicity of his brave and
• noble heart Philip, now Lord Lynne,
,made high resolves; and in the darkest
hours of his life he did not forget them.
Then he went to the drawing -room, and
asked to see Miss Lynne and Miss Ag-
atha; but they begged him to excuse
Mae ss Lynne was not well and
.Miss Agatha wits with her. They hoped
that for the next few days ha would
mese them from leaving their own
apartments.
"Of course," he thought; "quite right.
I was foolish to think they could see me,
and talk as if nothing had happened."
Although he did not sae his cousins,
Philip did not allow theto forget his
presence; and Miss Lynne's little page
declared he was tired of carrying Lord
Lynne's meseagos—now it was a bou-
quet of the most magnificent flowers;
then some very rare fruit, or
a book he thought would interest
them; thus not an hour in the day pass-
ed without some communication between
the enusins.
They were busy days, too; for Mr.
Gregson, the family solicitor, was in the
house, and all the arrangements for the
funeral devolved upon him and Philip.
so that he had but little time to think
of his new position, or to realize it
during the four days that elapsed be-
tween the old lord's death and his bur-
ial, which was arranged to take place
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TORONTO
her dank -eyed daughters and chivalrous
sons, came upon himeethat one' year of
wedded life, when the waren love, the
deep devotion, the almost adoration of
the beautiful Spaniard had been, hie
own. His English wife's calm, quiet af-
fectioe paled before it; 'there was no
roman:e about that gentle lady, whose
vast a;ealth had been so great an acqui.-
sition to the Lynnes of Lynnewolde,
Lord Lynne' looked back upon that
past, as upon a beautiful poem that he
had read in his early yotttli. .He ehrank
selfishly from inflicting Iain upon him-
self. He knewe for they had told him,
that his daughter resembled her lost
mother. She had the same dark, pas-
sionate, beautiful face; the seine won-
drous southern eyes and hair., He did
not wish to be obliged to suffer the old
pain of that loss over again. So he al-
lowed his eldest child to grow up in a
foreign land, under another's care. In
his own heart he wished that she would
marry and settle there. , He intended to
endow her most liberally; but one day
there came a message, from that far-off
home saying that the Senora Monte-
leone was dying, and Inez must be sent
for. Then,Lord Lynne sent a trustwor-
thy agent to bring his unknown daugh-
ter home. Lady Lynne was dead, and
his younger child, Agatha, was only too
pleased to have her sister with her. They
were prepared to see a pretty girl; but
nothing like the dark -eyed Andalusian
had ever been seen at Lynnewolde. No
mere words could do justice to that won-
drous beauty, passionate'face, so perfect
in color and feature—to the bright,.
dreamy eyes, in whose.' liquid depths
there lay a world of beauty and of love
—to the rich, rippling Lair, black as
night, yet soft and shining as the wing
of a bird—the graceful figure, so per-
fectly moulded, the dainty, white jew
elled hands, the rare mixture of languid
ease and dignity. Yet, .what made her
the most wonderful, was the passion
and genius that seemed to emanate from
her. Every one who • saw her felt in-
stinctively that she was capable of great
things, either great evil, or great good.
There was no mediocrity. in Inez Lynne.
When once the old lord had recovered
from the first effect of seei gnher, he
could never rest out of her sight. He
from the first effect of seeing her, he
atone for his indifference' and neglect.
.Re lavished jewels and money upon her;
and when ho made his curious will, that
some people thought a just one, he se-
cretly hoped that his beautiful Inez
would be Lady Lynne.
"She is so dazzling, so new, so piquant,
.so unlike other girls," he thought, "that
Philip will be sure to fall in love with
her, and then my darling will be mistress
of Lynnewolde."
Inez, on her part, did not evince any
great affection either for her father or
sister. Her heart was sore from her
long neglect; she could not forget all at
once that for many a long year she had
been kept away from her rightful home,
deprived of her share in the grandeur
and magnificence of -the Lynnes. She
had not even been known by her right-
ful name. 1 o one had.' ever called her
Inez Lynne. In her jai iimother's
house she had always been 'addressed
as the Senorita Monteleone. When
did not feel any great affection for
she thought over these things, Inez
the father who had neglected her, or the
sister who had taken her place. She was
quiet and passive, rarely making any re
mark, when Lord Lynne caressed her
and loaded her with presents; her
beautiful, passionate face never lighted
up for him as it could light up for one
she loved.
When Agatha Lynne grew more ac-
customed to the presence of her sister,
she wondered much why she made no
mention of that past life. She never al-
luded to her home in Andalusia. She
never talked of love and lovers, as
young girls do; slie had no story to tell
of sweet words whispered under the
shade of the myrtle; no story, no live
secerts; and yet she was beautiful as a
houri, and only twenty-two.
and
will
had least ex-
possible
t that this en -
him. To his
at he did not
and there that
rs. More than
nd there would
scion about the
are
dur-
hasty in think -
mind
half -wilful, half -
mated him. Had
to be his wife.
her; and when
n the last few
and hail -shocked
y of the future
III.
Every family has its skeleton, its
strange incidents, its romantic story,
its secrets that the world faintly guesees
but never knows. The Lynnes of Lynne-
wolde, had a romance, but it had not
been hidden—it had been partly forgot-
ten; that romance was the marriage of
Stephen Lord Lynne to the beautiful
Andalusian w;>jose life had ended so
suddenly. No one knew much about it;
the English papers had announced it;
but no one ever saw the fair and ill-
fated Lady Lynne. The only thing
known of her was that she was the
daughter of a widow lady who was in-
consolable at her death, and who begged
from Lord Lynne permission to keep
the little child. He gladly consented;
some said because are did not like to see
the little Inez, as she reminded him of
his lost wife; be that -as it may, certain
it was that he made no effort to see
her. An English governess was provid-
ed for her, so that she was brought up
not only with a thorough knowledge of
the English language, but also of Eng-
lish polite literature. A sum of money
was paid annually to the Senora Monte-
leone and twice every year the father
received a letter giving him all details
of the child's health and progress, He
was satisfied to have things as they
were; he knew the child was well, and
happier than she would be in his house,
where another Lady Lynne lived and
ruled. He had formed fresh ,ties, and
that one early romance of his life was
nearly forgotten. But there were times
when the remembrance of sunny Spain,
her myrtles, orange groves, and olives,
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crets, sweet, simple Agatha had confid-
ed to her sister; but there was no confi-
dence given in return. Inez listened,
with a far-off, dreamy look in her beau-
tiful face, but she said no word of her-
self. She had nothing. to tell in return.
"Did no one ever love you, Inez?"
asked her sister, gazing at her in won-
der. "You are so beautiful, I should
have thought you would have many
lovers."
"The fairy prince will came some day,"
said. Inez, half impatiently. "Love and
lovers have no great attraction for me."
Then again simple, sweet Agatha won-
dered. So beautiful, so young, and not
even t,, care -about love—never to have
had a lover? She could not help thinking
that there was something incomprehen-
sible in this mystery. Twenty-two, and
never to have had a lover!
It was the morning after Lord Lynne's
funeral. No one knew how the sisters
had received the news of their father's
strange will; but Mr. Gregson bad been
with them for more than an hour, and
then left them with a smile on his face.
It. was a beautiful, bright June morn-
ing; all Nature was gay and animated.
A gentle breeze wafted the fragrance of
the flowers and the singing of the birds;
there was no cloud in the bright blue
sky. The chestnut trees were all in
bloom; from over the meadows there
came a perfume of hawthorn and fresh -
mown hay; the tall trees in the park
seemed thrilling with new life. It was a
morning that made every heart rejoice;
it seemed impossible to think of sorrow,
or sadness, or death.
Inez and Agatha Lynne sat in the lit-
tle room L-nown as Duly Lynne's bou-
doir. It was a charming room, and the
long French windows opened on to the
garden. There was a glimpse of land-
scape that looked like a vista of fairy-
land; the tall, stately cedar. the green
lawn, and the dark Woods beyond. White
and red roses grew by the window, and
filled the room with their exquisite frag-
rance.
Agatha had never used the 'apart -
Ment; but before Inez had been in the
house a week, Lord. Lynne had it most
sumptuously furnished and fitted up for
her use. It war a very nest of luxury;
it might have been expected that the
occupant of such a room would be young
and beautiful; it was only meant for
such. The soft, thick, white carpet
whereupon the roses lay so life -like and
real, that it seemed as though they had
jut been dropped there; the delicate
rose silk hangings. the few rare pictures,
a marble k'i-,ra holding a vase of glow-
ing crimson flowers, the elegant books,
the pretty g lounging . beutiful,ytoall whomefor
thc ;'Uunll
lux-
ury seems by right to belong.
They were a eliarniing picture, the
beautiful Andalusian girl and her sweet
English sister. Miss Lynne had sum-
moned Agatha to a council of war, and
had decided to hold it during breakfast,
so as to save.tiine. The pure sunbeams
did not fall upon many prettier scenes—
the fresh, fair faees of the sisters, the
delicate china, the blooming flowers;
and they lingered over the table, for
they had much to say.
"What is this wonderful cousin of
yours like, Agatha?" asked Inez, half
impetuosly. "Tell me something about
him. Is he short or tall—wicked or
good clever or stupid?"
"O.h, no!" cried Agatha, almost
breathless from surprise at the . cata-
logue.
"No—what?" said her sister. "Not
stupid, do you meant I am glad of it,
for really (you must excuse me for say-
ing it) I do think a certain kind of slow
stupidity characterizes you cold English.
I hope he has plenty of faults. I cannot
endure an insipidly perfect man."
"Philip is not ineipid," said her little
sister, somewhat indignantly. "Papa al-
ways said that he would, make a great
statesman."
"What is are like, Agatha. Describe
him to ere," said Inez.
"I .do not know," replied. Agatha. "He
is tall, like papa. I never thought whe-
ther he was handsome or not. He has
large dark blue eyes —they are clear
and full of truth; 1 always used to say
I could read his thoughts in them. Isis
hair is like mine—a kind of golden
brown."
"Never mind his hair and eyes," in-
terdupted Inez. "What is his faee like?
Toll ine, if you can."
Agatha looked half perplexed, then
her face brightened.
"Do you remember," she said, "that
portrait of Sir Lancelot—that you ad-
mired so much? You know the one I
mean ---where he is talking to Queen
Guinevere,one secs
ens liesfa ewear
of the
child."smile
that seCs
"Yes. I remember it," said Inez.
"Well, Philip is like that," said Ag-
atha, "I know he is very brave and very
firm; yet he is gentle and kind in his
manner. I do not believe that the shad-
ow of an untruth ever crossed his mind."
"Pas si mai," murmured Inez. "Now
let me hear his faults," she continued.
Agatha had related all her life's his-
tory; it was .not an eventful one. She
had had lovers, but none that she cared
much for. She liked Philip Lynne best
in the world, next to her father. She
blushed as she told how Allan Leigh, Sir
Harry Leigh's son, had sent her a valen-
tine, and Captain Hope had written
some verses to her. All these little se -
0
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teehism. "He is not bad-tempered; but
I think he is passionate, like all the
Lynnes. I do not think he could have
a moment's taleration for anything
a na mentis t ilena.tion agar anylthjng^,
mean and deceitful. Ile is haughty, too,
and I do not believe he would ever par-
don an underhand action."
"That is all you know about him,"
siad Inez, smiling again when her sis-
ter came to a full stop.
"That is all," said. Agatha. "Papa
liked him very much."
"So it seems," replied her sister.
"Lord. Lynne has asked permission to
see us this morning; I, for one, do not
feel inclined to comply with his re-
quest. Fancy, Agatha, how he will look
at us, speculating in his own mind
which he shall honor by asking to be
Lady Lynne. He had better not ask me.
I feel something like a Circassian slave
going to the highest bidder, My father
must hare been mad to have made such
a will as that."
"Hush, Inez," said Agatha; "remember
he was your father."
"How full you are of `goody' notions,"
replied Inez, with something like a
«
sneer. I say again—and you know I
am right—that the will was unjust to
us and to Lord. Lynne; but we will not
quarrel about it on such a morning as
this. Come out, and let us sit under the
oedartree; bring your books and your
work. If my lord wishes to see us, let
him find us there."
(To be continued..)
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NEGRO FARMERS.
Writers on the race question have often
called attention to the destructive effects of
city life upor the negroes.
Herdling together in crowded quarters in
the cities, they quickly become victims of
diseases which would decimate their ranks
were it not for a steady influx of new lndi-
vidual.„
The opposite of this story is brought to
notice in some figures about Georgia farms
which have Oust been published. The sta-
tistics are used to support the theory that
agricultural life is far the best for the race:.
In the state mentioned it is said that 82,822
of the 224,300 farms ore owned by negroes.
Among these are seventy-two who own more
than 1,000 acres each, 286 own between 500
and 1,000 acres each, 1,475 own between 200
and 5011 acres eaoh.
Of the smaller farms there are 3,540 negroes
who own between 175 and 260 acres each,
10.372 with holdings between 100 and 175,
19.070 with between 50 and 100 acres, and 39,-
653 with between 20 and 50 acres.
These remarkable statements expressed in
another form show that the younger genera-
tion of negroes has increased its property
holdings since 1901 to a value of nearly 065,-
000.000.
Such statistics taken from the Georgia rec-
ords have much of hopefulness about them.
The rano question is many sided. But it Is
safe to say that the industry represented by
land holdings of the magnitude indicated is
working toward a solation, of some of the
difficulties.
The idle and shiftless negro is a menace
wherever be may be found. The man who
owns his horns Is far more likely to be
worthy of respect.
The negro in the city, with limited oppor-
tunity for work, and subject to the disease
which abounds among those of his rano is
fighting a losing battle.
Tho negro farmer who eaves his money,
murchasak ngeopportunity torhts ace,n bd ot himself nd for
his race.
The Georgia statistics show once again the
value of the work which is being oarrled on
in such schools as that at Tuskegee under
the direotion of earnest men like Bookel
Washington,
SO TIIOUGHTLESS.
He—How dull it was at Peanut's
party loot night!
She—Yes, ni the early part of the
evening. It got brighter soon after you
left.
ea "I hardly know thein," said poor Ag -
0• 0• ,leasee s earel .,aa sesee sesee a atba, quite distressed at this long ea-
allemoaluemsanamert