The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-07-08

Yes, you have greatly improves
| IL. Netherby tells me the young tim
Der is now saleable. Planting in til
manner you did fifty years ago wa
most judicious."
- It ought to be made up with tn
Fluxton Estate" he went on. no
needing my interruption. Peopl
say Laura Eluxton is plain, as If al
heiress were ever beautiful / Shouts
like to see the man who will hav,
Ashton adding EIuxton TO it. :"
was my uncle's favorite nephew
so | WINGED internally at the sug
gestion.
You see. sir, fellow likes to sec
q pretty girl sc the end of his table
Why didn't Dame Fortune give Kate
Gibbons the manor as dogry for her
good looksI' 3e .s.rl .sH
1.-The heir OF Ashton ought Go
marry Laura Fluxton, said my
uncle. dec;siyely, !" were she Muekle
mouthed Meg herselfl"
Certainly, sir" I said with per-
fectly unconscious look ; and if she
refuses him, i will get him an intro
duetion to the Pig faced Lady. She
has no end of money, they say, aud
after a year of her a man might be
farther encouraged to go in for the
Dunmow fitch.
May, Alan, /" observed he once
more with smile, :" 80 rash q man
you may be sure would never get a
rasherl" wgls "
But when he wished nae goodnight
he once more returned TO the point.
You stop here tomorrow"
: Unless the country goes to the
dogs during my absence.
Ride over to see Laura tomorrow
morning. OH By the way, tell Meth
Grey and Stanley I shall want them
as witnesses to a document when you
return. Good night" KS
After breakfast next day, / asked
Mr.. Norris if he had any commands
for Fluxton Hall ere / mounted my
horse.
Ha, hal" he chuckled, Ask
Fluxton about that poaching rascal
Morris; and bark vel sacrifice to the
Graces and vow hetaconlb to Per
suasion; Venus and all her droyes go
with you" se
He stood watching me down the
park; at the lodge / turned and rode
swiftly toward the rectory.
Kate and / had exchanged divers
love passages in years past. She was
now in trouble. Come what would /
would marry her. She must not 90
forth into the cold world to earn her
bread as governess.
The rectory stood apart from the
rest of the village. shaded by old
elms. They were now straining in
the wind, and only here and there O
yellow leaf chung to the naked boughs.
i put the horse info the well-known
stable, crossed the lawn to the draw
ing room bow-window. opened it, and
entered.
Pardon me, Miss Gibbons, but I
would not ring and disturb you to-
day. / am not going to sympathize or
condole with you as an ordinary friend
might do. / have come down from
London to see, as something dearer
than a friend, in what / can help
YOU"
oh, Mr.. Woodward what can I
say to you at such a time as this
Yours is true kindness" and she
turned away much affected.
After o pause resumed -" You
will have to see your fathers will
and to dilapidations on the house
but first, where are you going while
all these duties--these sad duties to
a mourner-are being gone through ?"
You have heard from your uncle,
of course, about my fathers specula-
tions. They have proved most I'M
f,oy-t,yv, a 1n--ha loof al V7s,a t,,~~se.,-n
will pay for our debts, but I
grieve at not being able to meet the
dilapidations which will certainly be
heavy on his old honse. Az for my
self, | shall seek employment, and
hope IN time to liquidate everything"
and Miss Gibbons proudly faced her
lover.
Kate, I have three hundred
pounds lying idle at my bankers;
borrow it--you can pay me interest it
you will"
How can I thank you for your
generosity? but--ah, no, no, l cannot
take it, Mr.. Woodward" E1E1a
"Then, take me with it Kate, if
that will reconcile you to it." and /
held her hand firmly, which struggled
to be free. You know how long
have loved-I came here on purpose
to say this-Kate, my own Kate, look
up"
She paused a moment, and then
said: 1T is almost too happy-but
your uncle-he would never forgive
me. Oh, Mr.. Woodward-Alan-it
cannot bei-do not ask me farther
and she sat down, as pale as death, on
the sofa.
/ begged and implored, but to no
purpose-she would not even give
me hope; nothing was so abhorrent
to her feelings as to enter a family
where she was not welcome. / blamed
her pride, she acknowledged she de-
served it; | rallied at my uncle; she
said
Nay, nay, true friend, do not
speak thus with him above yet un.
buried You shall hear betime:
from me. If / am in difficulty
promise to write to you and trust you
as my brother-do not grievel For,
give mel" and she turned her earnest
eyes upon me.
could only silently kiss her fore
head and gaze moment into her face
Then / retreated to my horse, anC
rode off silent and dispirited. loved
her truly; why should she thus throw
so foolish an obstacle in the way-sht
loved me-had as good as confessed
it !; why are girls so fanciful?
Occupied by these sombre reAec
tons, i was startled as turned out o
the lane into the main road, by {
groom galloping by. He pulled up OF
seeing me, and asked hurriedly if
had seen his mistress.
What? A lady pass here? No
Nothing amiss, ehl
She was riding Proud Peter, sir
he's desperate horse in his tantrums
and has started of like mad with he
while / was getting a stone out OF thi