Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1860-05-19
MY UNCLE,s WILL.

would not DO, Tor L had my work Tor the next
day, so / took a sedative which had the re-
guired effect. Perhaps had rather ovsrdosed
myself, for did not awake till late. 1t was
near midday before reached the hotel.
'.They have gone, sir, +" said the waiter in o.
ply to my inquiries; 'but the gentleman left "a
note for you"
could hardly believe my ears 1 felt as if
he'd received sudden blow. 1t was cruel
disappointment, but with CLEAN OF hope 1
opened the letter. 1t ran:
Dear Sir-We had intended to leave town
this morning, and your patient, thanks to your
skill, felt so well, that she would not hear of a
change Of plan. She wished to leave you the
accompanying triAe a sign that she is not
ungTateful Indeed L cannot express our feel
ing of what we owe you Yours, sincerely, II.
L. Jones.
Enclosed was a ring, small cameo of no
great intrinsic value, but l had seen it on her
hand as l dressed the wound, to me it was
priceless.
What delicaey this showed. Perhaps she had
seen that fee would have panied me, while
this memento was unspesksbly precious. With
renewed ardOr l sought to trace her, but in
vain / crosse xamined the waiter He only
knew that they had been there two or three
days, their name was Jones, and they came
from Wales. The young lady must be their
daughter, for he had heard them call her "my
child
Though had never gone far as this be-
n
first sight or / should have been positively ter
rifed at my own sensations. / was obliged to
own myself that if called into a patient in a
similar state, / should at once have given GER
tifcate of insanity.
More than year passed away, and by de-
grees the impression made upon me wore off.
did not forget her, however, and my thoughts
would not unfrequently turn to the fair un-
known.
For the moment had felt utterly unable 10
endure Lady Claras badinage, so / carefully
avoided her for month or two. Naturally
this put end to a Irritation which had been
established on the principle of mutual amuse-
ment with limited liability, and L had not
filled up the vacancy permanently. | wan
dered about indeed with even more than my
usual Inconsistency.
1 think that the danger l had been in had
given me a shock, and could now feel thank
ful that the temptation had been removed.
The memory made me difficult to please, and
cautious against giving reign to my feelings
1t was autumn, and London was a desert.
Suddenly | remembered my friends the Lie
wellyns, had given me warm invitation to
their place in Wales. L had not seen my
native principality for years and / resolved 70
pay it visit. To look at my engagement
book and see that had nothing important to
tie me, to make arrangements for a substitute
in case Of any emergency arising, was the work
of an hour. 1 wrote a letter announcing my
drrlVdl, ana ndu everything packed In reddI-
ness to start next morning.
As travelled westward I found that much
rain had fallen, and in one place torrent had
washed away the rails. The consequence of
this was an hours delay, and on my arrival al
the terminus found the coach had already
started
There was, however, another later in the
day, and booked a place in it. The clouds
now cleared away for some hours and / en-
joyed the drive, but presently another shower
came on.
The Llewellyns had not expected me by this
conveyance, for when we reached the corner
where the road to Llandethryn branched off,
there was no one to meet me.
/ had my luggage taken into a cottage by
the roadside till L should send for it, and
learning that had only mile to walk, set
Of on foot with my umbrella.
A quarter Of a mile on l came to a little
hamlet, but did not pause, for l saw nothing
20 be gained by stopping. As passed one Of
the cottages, the door opened, and out tripped
quaint little being, who appeared as much at
home in the rain if she was a mermaid
Wrapping her closely and worn hood like over
her head, she had an ample red cloak. Her
dress, whatever it might be, was gathered up
under this drapery, leaving an exquisitely
shaped-well, ankle.
she gave me one sly glance, and then tript
on as unconcernedly as if q well-dressed, not
altogether frightful London man was quite a
.
did not suit my notions, for the glimpse caught
had convinced me she was pretty and lively
looking.
Here my pretty one >" l cried after her
a. have part Of my umbrella, if you going
my way, unless you are waterkelpie."
She stopt short, and dropt low courtesy.
My cloak keeps me dry. II 1 have your
umbrella you will be wet, look you" she said
with that peculiar accent which after my long
abseDce seemed strange even to my Welsh ears.
Nonsense" l returned; there is quite
shelter enough for both, my dear. if We keep
close Here, take my arm
She took il with a roguish smile, even while
saying: Il feel afraid. You are fine gentle
man, and | am only poor village girl"
Il never saw a lady with brighter eyes,
or more beautiful hair, said, taking up a
tress of pure gold, which struggled from be-
meath her picturesque head dress There is
one / should like to have here, instead of you
What is your nsme!
"Kitty, sir, so please you
Kitten it should be, you froicsome little
thing Keep your eyes away, you sorceress,
you are bewitehing me"
She laughed a low, pleased laugh, that
would not have been out of place in a London
bOudoir.
We had now come to a turbid stream cross
ing the road. 1t was not deep, evidently, for
there were tracks showing that carts and car
riages passed through it, but there was no per-
ceptible passage for those on foot
The stepping stones are covered" she said,
with look Of dismay-"what can we do?''
Those pretty little feet shall not be wet, at
ali events" / returned, ''if have to wade
for il, but think l can see the stones we'll
enough TO cross without that"
I caught her up in my arms, for she was as
light as feather, and carried her across.
Now I must take toll" 1 said, suiting the
action to the word. had not set her down yet,
and she could not resist.
"How dare you, sir? am very angry, look
you,' she said with pout.
ssWeli, I've looked, but l don't see it,"
replied coolly "if you were you would be an
ungrateful little baggage, for am wet TO the
knees, so if il had not been for me, you must
have stayed on the other side, or have had a
rare ducking"
ssWelI, if you meant no harm / must forgive
YOU. but you might have asked me first, she
said, coquettishly.
By the time she had reached the house, she
had quite csptivated me pro tenn There was
something very piquant and attractive in her
look.
had been rather surprised at her turning
l. IL I..ew wkenx kaA Aa-ff