The Plymouth weekly Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1860-1869, 1869-02-25


Now, no mOre!
And so we did not speak of it just then
any more. But before the day was ended
we had both laughed heartily over the
Valentine, the vexation and the adven-
tura We called the sketcher "the Valen-
tine; we wondered about him little,
and finished the day by coloring up our
morning walk till it glowed as good sto
rY, when we told it at "little tea" to nv
mother. There it seemed to end. But,
again and again, as weeks passed by, felt
an uuaccountable vexation rise in my
breast because Lady Margaret had seen
"the Valentine" At last, when June was
come, there was something else to think
about The return of the old public days
was announced. The people were to have
their fill Of pleasure, and once more they
might go home tired, loyal and satisfied,
if they would The day fixed upon was
the Goth Of June, and everybody said that
they should make it a point to GO"
Then everybody wondered if Lady Mar
garet would leave off her mourning on
that day-if she would really wear colors.
| was very slave in my love for LAZY
Margaret. | did not wish her to be
gay after that fashion. | hoped, feared,
wondered. When the day came she kissed
me lovingly, and was dressed IN rich-flOw
ing, soft-shining gray, with a white bon
net, and delicate marabout feathers in it;
and the blessedness of her presence seemed
to wrap me round like garment.
Such q day it was such lights and shad-
ows, such warmth and giadress such a
confusion of happy sounds The whole
park, except where the deer were en-
closed, was alive with moving multitude,
enjoying the glad fellowship Of those holi-
day hours. Suddenly Lady Margaret came
up to me.
"Mary," she said" the Valentiner'
| thought she looked odd and excited I
suppose seemed.very stupid, for she went
On with strange earnestness-
"Have you heard Of man. young
man, a gentleman, l mean-who has been
lodging with Mrs Bond, by the river side
he is the ValeHtine'-he i herel'
"Do you mean the man who came there,
fishing? | heard that some youth came
there on foot with his fishing-rod. He has
been i'll. My mother sent him Ctrawber-
ries week ago. / have never seen him."
"That talking Miss Nancy Bennet says
he has often asked about me-"
There was som ething just a little less
than perfect in Lady Margaret's manner,
thought; and the thought troubled and
vexed me.
"Come with me now," she said.
So we walked across the park together,
to where people were collected under the
shade OF some stately oaks. But l could
think only Of the beautiful morning in
February, and that dreadful Valentino
for so called the man in my heart
"How do you do, Mrs. Bond?" said
Lady Margaret, walking straight up to the
mistress OF the little inn. Mrs. Bond cour
tested and congratulated herself on being
there. "Not but that it was hard to come"
she said. :" for have lodger, now, my
lady, whose fishing is well nigh forever
over could not leave him at home. He
vowed like q willful child thst I should
bring him. I had q world of difficulty to
settle it."
"And how was it arranged? ?"
"Why, with two poles and an arm chair;
and there he is He is one of those who
always have their own way, and such
don't last loxg."
We looked in the direction pointed out
by Mrs. Bond, and saw figure wrapped
up in cloaks, sitting in chair in the shade
"I heard" said Lady Margaret, "that a
sick man had been brought here /; l thought
would ask about him."
"Thank you, my lady; just like you.
wish you would speak to him. There, he
looks this way-you may almost see his
eyes fash"
"IIe is prodigious handsome" said a
voice close by; and Lady Margaret a lit
tie shrunk aside from the touch of Miss
Nancy Bennett "Prodigious handsome
My sister and l make him often an object
for walk-pleasant to have an object,
said Miss Nancy. Mrs Bond seems otake
great care Of him. sets him outside to
watch the river, and he admires the river,
and talks of your ladyship-talks vastly
of your ladyship," giggled Miss Nancy
and though the poor creature ment no
more, am sure, than TO do honor to Lady
Margaret's perfection l yet felt l could
have strangled her for her manner of do
ing it.
"Well, and I wish her ladyship acoMd
| speak to him, if she will be so kind" said
Mrs Bond, angrily. "He wants friends
people as en- be friends; :" with fiery
flash of her eyes on Miss Nancy. "When
asked him the other day who l should
send to if anything happened, he said
The doctor or the corOner-which you
please and if that is not enough to
break the heart of any woman who has
been wife and mother, don't know
what is"
"What is his name?" asked Lady Mar
garet.
"That be dom tell" said Mrs. Bond
But he pays his way, and he had go
That natural to me, that if he didn't pay
could not. turn him out He amt like
other people. He's got wonderful way
with him why, my old man is just like
his servant, and my grandchildren they
adores him -
Nevertheless" said Miss Nancy, spite
fully. "you will get into trouble if you le
him die in your house without a Doctor"
Then trouble may come, and welcome
A doctor he won't have, and not ak th,
doctors that ever were made would kee,
him here; for he is dying, though slow
and | am doctor enough to know that"
Very mysteriousl !" exclaimed Mis
Nancy.
(Which I never denied" responded Mrs
Bond. "But still l know something
Gentleman he is; i'll he is; dying he is.
wish, my lady, you would go and speal
to him."
"Good-day, Mrs. Bond" said Lad
Margaret, with one of her quiet, penetrai
ing smiles which went to the heart direct
ly, and then, with her hand within m,
arm, she walked up to the languid figur
in the chair under the trees
He took off his hat as she came neal
Miss Nancy Bennett had certainly nc
overstated the amount of his beauty. II
looked at Lady Margaret boldly, with
smile which was wonderful, but strangel
free. Many people stood by. There wa