The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1863-04-09

suddenly. 1t was a quiet and subdued sorrow,
rather than anytempestuous grief, which reign
ed in thenarrow circle at Fernwood. MIR. Wen
dale had been an invalid for many years, Civ
ing very little of his society to his wife and
daughter. His death, therefore, though sud
den. had not been unexpected, nor did his loss
leave anyg great blank i'll that quiet home
laurence spent his Christmas at Fernwood,
but returned to us for the new year and 1T
was then settled that we should go down to
Yorkshire in February, in order to superln-
tend the restoration and alteration OF the ola
place.
All was arranged for the journey, when, on
the very day ON which we were to start, Lau-
renee came to Onslow Square with a letter
from his mother, which he had only just re-
ceived. Lady Adela wrote a few hurried lines
to beg us to delay our visit for some days, as
they had decided on removing Mr.. Thomas,
before the alterations were commenced, to a
cottage which was preparing for hum near
York. The invalid had not been left a pau
per by the death of his patron, as, by MIR.
Wendale's will, an annuity of two hundred a
wear was left to Thomas Wendale.
Il will not hear of this visit being delayed
an hour" Laurence said impatiently, as he
thrust Lady Adela's crumpled letter into his
pocket. My poor foolish mother and sister
are really too absurd about this first or fifth
cousin of ours, Thomas WendaIe. Let him
leave Fernwood or let him stay at feruwood,
lust as he, or his nurse, or his medical man,
may please but | certainly shall not allow his
Arrangements to interfere with ours. So, la
dies, / shall be perfectly ready to escort you
by the eleven o'clock express"
Mrs. Trevor demonstrated, declaring that
she would rather delay our visit according tc
Lady Adela's wish but my impetuous Lau-
renee would not hear a word, and under a
black and moonless February sky we drove
up the avenue at Fernwood.
We met Mr.. Arden in the hall as we enter
ed there seemed something ominous IN re-
ceiving our first greeting from the family doc
tor. and Laurence was for a moment alarmed
by his presence.
s.My mother? Lucy? ?" he said a~nxiously ;
they are well, / hope?'
'sPerfectly we'll | / have not been attending
them. have just this moment come from
Mr.. Thomas
rs he worse %
II very much fear he is rather worse than
usual
Our welcome was scarcely a cordial one, for
both Lucy and Lady Adela were evidently en-
barrassed by our unexpected arrival. Their
black dresses, half-covered with Grape, the
mourning hveries of the servants, the vacant
seat of the master, the dismal winter weather
and ceaseless beating of the rain upon the
window-panes without, gave a more than usr-
ally dreary aspect to the place, and seemed to
chill us to the very soul.
Those who at any period Of their lives have
suffered some terrible and crushing atfllctlon,
some never-to-be-forgotten trouble, for which
even the hand of Time has no lessening 1utiu-
ence. which increases rather than dimimshes
as the slow course of a hopeless life carries us
further from it, so that as we look back we do
not ask ourselves why the trial seemed SO bit
ter, but wonder rather how we endured even
as we did-those only who have sunk under
such a grief as this can know how difficult 1t
is to dissociate the period preceding the an
guish from the hour in which it came.
| say this lest | should be influenced by at
ter-feeling when describe the dismal shadows
that seemed to brood over the hearth round
which Lady Adela, my aunt, Laurence, and
myself, gathered upon the night of our return
to Fernwood.
TCONCLUDED NEXT WEEK.