Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1867-08-08

herent chain of events, exempli
flying cause and effect; and if hi
plans for the future did not at tha
moment receive any determinatt
change, be still kept repeating
anxiously and inquiringly, as ht
| wandered on in the moonlight
the two strangely suggestive words
'sAnd then?" 1t proved a long
and toilsome nights journey fol
that belated traveller; for he had
left Mr.. Canute's cottage so hasti
ly, that he omitted to ask fol-
certain landmarks on the hills
leading to the place whittier he
was bound. In consequence, the
stars faded in the sky, and the
rosy morn broke through eastern
mists, ere the weary man, from
the summit Of high hill which
he had tortuously ascended, beheld
afar off, down in the valley the
shining river, the bridge, and the
church tower of the town where
his friend, in some anxiety, await
ed bis temperance.
During all his after-life, that
young man never forgot the solita-
ry night walk when he lost his way
beneath a beautiful spangled sum-
mer sky; the stars seemed to form
the letters "And then ?" the soft
night-breeze seemed to whisper in
his ear "And then?"
1t is true he had gained the
intelligence he sought respect
ing the inmates of Ambermead
Hall; but he laid bare his folly for
the inspection of Mr.. Canute; and
in return, he had listened to no
reproof-no tiresome lecture vouch-
safed from prosy age to ardent
youth, but simply two words had
penetrated his heart and set him
to thinking seriously. Mystic lit
tie words! "And then?"
For nearly three years after
Mr.. Harwell's decease, the old
Hall, contrary to general anticipa-
ton, remained untenanted, save
by domestics left in charge. Miss
Clara had found shelter with her
relative, Lady Ponsonby, though
her memory was still fresh and
warmly cherished among the hum
BILE friends in her native village.
Mr.. Canute, if possible, more silent
than ever, still remained the village
oracle; perhaps more cherished
than of yore, inasmuch as he was
the only memento remaining of
the beloved Harwell-the old
familiar faces now seen no more
He would listen, and they would
talk, of days gone by; he felt the
loss even more than others, for
he mourned friend and compan-
ion in Mr.. Harwell, and Clara had
been to the good Two Words as
an adopted daughter. At length
it was rumored that Mr.. Selby,
the new proprietor, was soon ex-
pected to take possession of his
property in due form; moreover,
that he was on the point of mar
riage, and that his young bride
would accompany him. Ill re-
ports fly quickly; and it had been
circulated in former times that
Mr.. Selby was wild and extrava-
CANT, careless of others, selfish
and profigate. Indeed, Mr.. Ca
mute had not contradicted such
reports, SO it was generally opined
that they were too true, and
had a legal foundation. With
heavy hearts, the inhabitants of
Ambermead commenced their ru-
raj preparations for the reception
of the squire and his bride; green
arches were erected, and wreaths
of flowers were hung on the
spreading branches, beneath which
the travellers road lay. 1t was
the season of roses and nightingales
when Ambermead was in its glory;
and never had the rich red roses
bloomed 80 prOfusely, and never
had the chorus of the groves been
more full and enchanting, than on
the summer evening when the
old and young of the hamlet, ar
rayed in their holiday attire,
waited to greet the new comers.
Mr.. Canute stood at his cottage
door; the bridge just beyond over
which the route conducted to the
Hall through'avenues of greenery,
was festooned with roses; and a
band Of maidens in white lined
the picturesque approach. The