Delaware tribune. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1867-1877, 1867-08-15

CHAPTER vi.
AN ENEMY HATH DONE THIS.

Pennies autumnal visit to Mayfield came,
prolonged itself to her perfect satisfaction,
and passed. Mr.. Tindal saw her often, but
he did not, as might have been feared, find
her monoionously sweet. She had caprices
of shyncss, which she could not control;
caprices that answered always to his cheer
ful moods of self-possession. If he were
melancholy, then she forgot herself, and
comforted him with jealous affection; if he
were gay, then she drew in, and was as re-
served us with stranger. She had heard
or read somewhere that it is a grand mistake
in women to let their lovers see how much
they are loved. This mistake she had re-
covered irrctrievably, and now and then it
disquieted her conscience. She was secretly
vexed and ashamed that she was not more
her own mistress in his company, and she
wondered why Why she was one day at
her case, and another day sensitive, blush
ing and full of troubled discomfort Did he
observe the change, understand it, care for
it? What did he think of it? She fancied
that If she had seen such uncertain temper
in another girl, she would have called 1t CO.
quetry. But indeed, indeed, she pleaded
to herself, she could not help it. She made
| the most beautiful calm resolutions when
he was not there, and when he came, it de-
pended quite upon him-how he looked,
how he spoke-whether they maintained
her in cool dignity, or whether fit of self
consciousness seized her, and they vanished
like hoar-frost in sunshine.
Mr.. Tindal was contented, however he
found her. The variety added piquancy to
their interview. She answered him some
times, and puzzled him sometimes, but he
liked deciphering the puzzle; for whatever
queer humor took her, it was genuine for
the moment, and 1t never caused him to doubt
her love. lie relied on her, in fact, and
trusted her us implicitly as if she were his
wife alrcady-very dear and very true. In
his unfortunate position with the world, q
doubt would have been misery, would bave
destroyed the chief charm of her affection,
which lay in its certainty, safety, and repose.
To that trial Pennie never put him-nevei
tried to put him. She would have thought
it cruelty, n wickeduess not to be forgiven.
The caprices she betrayed were masterful,
not wilful, and she would fain not have been
subject to them.
1t was midway in October when she re.
turned to Eastwood, and though her meet
t ings with Mr.. Tindal ceased, they exchanged
. as many letters as they pleased. The dreary
days, while the leaves were falling, were no
dreary any more to her since she was happy
$ at heart; and the passage of each one brough
: her nearer to the time when she would b.
always where she wished to be.
Soon December SHOWS were on the grount
!, again. The Wynyard children counted /
three years since the memorable Christina
: at Brackenfield when papa left Eastwol
: while they were all away. And one after
/, noon, towards four o'clock, lively expecta
tions fiuttered about the drawing-room, i
d the persons of Anna and Lois; for he wa
1t coming back he was to arrive that day b
y might appear at any moment Mamm,
=. Francis, and Uncle John Hutton had gor
n- to Brighton to receive him and bring hi
r home; and Gcoffrey and Maurice had set @
= across the fell to Kirkgate Station to me
Of them all.
he The two girls had sprung up like weeds
at the three years interval. Anna was no
10 : nearly sixteen; tall as her mother, and
not handsome, wanting only more brigll
Id ness and lightness to become SO. Lois was
mt slender slip of eleven, with wonderful dal
s, ia eyes, and glorious masses of ripping gold
a hair.a difficult to keep in net or knot as 81
an herself was to keep in the dull daily groo
ng of the dull Eastwood life. She went danci
aIa I up and down the long room, singing Al
waving her arms to her song, like some swe
witch, counting the. hour of inspiration.
Anna was restless in another fashion. s
i stood minute or two at the window Ii
be commanded the avenue and watched; tn
or. she replenished the fire; theni she entreat
on Lois, for PHYS sake, to cease her crazy ma
10 Guvrcs, then again she went to the windt
,ae and watched.
III She had repeated this monotonous rou
lue half-a, dozen times at least, when the gu
81 figure of Penelope Croft rose from the WI
% ,tv ing-table in the great bay overlooking I
md terrace and come forward into the lig
ike Pennic would strike her guardian as not mt
&c less changed than his own daughters. II
an was the same plain pathetic face in rep,
OF still, hut cultivation, refined; youthful
ic- ever in candour of expression, but W
-" thought in it, and a serious wistfulness
prs her beautiful eyes, which the slighttul
re- castle curve of her lips alone kept from
the ing melancholy. She was grown, and
III; ,o always shapely figure was easy and grace
= IN Her dress, of which Pennie was exauisit
the careful, fitted and suited her to atlmirati
lpa- and had the modest charm Of perfect n,
!, o' ness and nicencss in every detail. The
nf !, preston she made on casual observers Il
lent was always agreeable, and people had q
hicli left off criticizing her as odd queer, or VI
=, Those who knew her best wondered
yery they had ever thought her so.
pos 1t was principally on his wards acco
au, ,hau that Mr.. Wynyard was returning to Engla
arry He was returning against MIR. llargro
you warning and advice; for his own affairs v
wo- in no better plight that when he went av
here anu wha'efei oahSei "''e"e" ".
sit menaced him still. Nevertheless, he
well persisted in his intention, giving his wi
other und,,rs,.,a ,,,,,t th,. arnnfs recent le
,bont were unsatisfactory on some important
te.- ness to which he coycrtly alluded as
both cerning his wards fortune There wa
duly doubt he added. tba, the first use Pen,
Croft would make Of her liberty woul
left 70 ','.h' ne' .Asase'se.'. :" 1n', ''"''",
, NO Tor MS own pcace Vi ihi"a sahe, ne 81
lord like to see her before she fixed her fat
LIN, ,,li,,, revocably. Under these circumstance
conf. ",tL conceived it his duty to risk that co