Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1869-04-16
red seal, in dazed sort Of way, then ran
4Lo bol1 for Graoo

Is her eyes fell upon the olrectioh upon Tue
etter. She glanced at the servant, who
,uwed with servile reverence.
s.This is from my father, the carl" she
aid. "Does he know that l am here, MIR.
Williams p
ssHe does not, my lady, Your brother
Edgar has kept your secret well. =
"TEMp1rroN PLACE, Nov. 20. 1864.
'slMy Dear Grace-I have relented. You
we're right in your estimate of Claiborne.
He was mere adventurer, and is now IN
all on half dozen counts. l was never so
infatuated before You shall marry whom
soevcr it may please you to marry. beg
your forgiveness, and pray Of you to return.
Edgar consented to forward this as am ig-
norant of your whereabouts.
"Your doting, irascible father.
MARCUS TEMpLEToN.
"P. S.-Claxton, the rector, is dead"
A bright light sufused the face of Grace.
She tore the blank leaf from the letter, and
taking out her pencil, wrote as follows:
s.My Dear Father-I hold no bitterness.
The death of Rev. Mr.. Claxton leaves the
rectorate of Shedstone vacant. | will re-
turn on condition that you will give the liv-
ing at Shedstone to whoever may name.
Your daughter,
GRACE"
Folding up the note she handed it to the
servant and said: .gs
s.Mr. Williams, give that to your master.
I will expect you back with an answer by
tomorrow noon" M
The man bowed, retired, and re-appeared
the next day with the following reply:
ssAgreed. Please name the rector. Be
back by tomorrow. M. r."
Grace found it necessary to make my La
dy of Foley Hall her con6dante. Her sto-
ry was simple one, and may have been
in part OWNED by words she let drop before
the curate on the steps Of the lodge, and by
the tenor of her fathers letter.
The latter was a stern, self-opiniated,
irascible old gentleman. A dissolute young
fellow by the name of Claiborne, who preten-
ded to be of noble descent and immensely
wealthy, and ingratiated himself into the
earl's friendship, To such an extent had he
accomplished this, that when he proposed
for the hand of Grace, the old gentleman
was delighted, and insisted that she should
comply. But she had read the character of
her sutton, and persistently refused. One
violent interview followed another, until
Grace left Templeton Place, willing to en-
dure any privations rather than marry
against her will, or submit to a repetition Of
the violent scenes. In the end the earl was
forced to confess that he had been wofully
deceived : and !. cruelty unk j ).
Grace was standing alone with Paul
Ventnor in the great library of Foley Hall.
He knew that she was going away on the
morrow, but did not know that she belong
ed to the noblesse His heart was sad, and
he kept his teeth hard shut, as if thereby
to be the more able to keep back an oval of
his passion. Grace had learned to love him
dearly, and suspected his motives for re-
naming silent.
II must bid you good bye, as you will
not be here tomorrow, she said softly,
holding out her white hand to him. Il
shall miss your sermons very much"
''And myself also, 1 had hoped" he said,
sadly, humbly.
And yourself also,'' repeated Grace, in
her truthful way, and with heightened color.
"Your congregation do not appreciate you,
Mr.. Ventnor. Your salary is far too mea-
gre for the talents you possess, for the labor
you perform. The Rectorate at Shedstone
is vacant 1t is worth two thousand pounds.
All ! if you had that, Mr.. Ventnor." q
eyes, if had" repeated Paul, his voice
hj1nrp e(1 1pnvy hot 7 mould do fhap ~
He averted his face to stiae his emotion.
Grace knew what he wanted to say, and
woman-Gke, determined to make him say it.
With her eyes fixed upon him, and tapping
the floor with her daintily- slippered foot,
she asked, in low, sweet voice
"What would you do then?"
He turned full upon her, his dark, hand
some face all in a glow. He caught her
hand and said, in a thick, husky voice:
"What would I do then, Grace? I would
hold your hand thus, and say; Grace, I
love you with my whole soul | cannot live
without you. Be mine be minen!
Paul was trembling, and Grace's face
flushed with pleasure.
''lt strikes me that you have said it any
how" she replied, with little gay laugh,
aad Withdrawing her hand when you
are rector of Shedstone / will listen to the
appeal with more complacency, Good
night, Mr.. Ventnor.'
The young curate went away from Foley
Hall with heavy heart, and the sermons
of the next Sabbath were dull and prosy
ones indeed. But on the Monday following
he received very great surprise in the
shape of a document bearing an earPs crest,
and reading as follows
ssTEMpLEroN PLACE, Dec. 8, 1S49.
"To Paul Ventnor, Citrate at Bladesburg /:
Rev. Sir-The Rectorate of Shedstone
awaits your acceptance. Let me have your
decision at once. By Christmas we would
expect to find you in charge. YOURS, in
haste, MARCUS TEMPLEToN,"
Then followed one of the old eari's blunt
postscripts:
my daughter. Grace, has recommended
your appointment"
| Paul Ventnor was almost dumbfounded !;
he sank into chair and burst into tears.
He was appreciated at last, and the Rector
ate of Shedstone was his But how was it
to be explained? Was the fair mendicant of
the lodge gate an earl's daughter? Had the
crown piece be Dropped into her hand
brought to him an annuity of $4,000 a
year?
He accepted the offer, and by the holidays
was in charge. In course of time Grace ex-
planned all to him, then he renewed his
proposition, which she entertained with very
gratifying "complacency."
But wheq he applied 10 the earl he was
bluntly refused. Grace interceded, but was
also refused.
s'Father," she said, "what is Temple
toms word worth 2"
cas- much as his bond, child, and rigidly