The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1869-09-16
He smiled at her childish candor.
as your life so very dull, then ?"

Christine earnestly. Until L came her
[ was used to constant society and travel
ing, to being made much of and having
every wish gratitied always with SOM
one who loved me very dearly and whom
| I loved" Her voice faltered-the tear
stood in her eyes
"Poor child p he said, looking at hel
with grave pity.
''Since have been here, have never
seen any one but my aunts. Don't think
me ungrateful" interrupted herself
quickly-"they are very good to me on
" you know one wants something more
at twenty to fill ones heart than dry SER
mons and wo1sted work. y
"Would you mind telling me-" asked
Sir Fairfax, in low voice, show such a
great change came over your life ?"
"My husband died." answered Chris
tine, and tears fell on her white hands ly-
ing in her lap.
SAnd life is very bitter without love, is
it not ?" be said.
He glanced at her, interested at her
mixture of naoiete and earnestncss.
1t was getting dark. The last faint
streak of rose color had disappeared from
the sky, and Christine suddenly remem-
bered that her long absence might create
some uneasiness.
"Poor child /" he said to himself, as he
watched her cross the two first fields $50
young and so pretty, to be shut up in this
dull hole, with only two women for com
pany. must try and induce my mother
co call on her. I fear it will be hard
though" Then he turned homewaTd, feel
| ing a shade lighter of heart than when
he came. ag a@ hh
AS for Christine, she went on her way
with elastic step, feeling almost as II she
had commenced a new era in her life. The
last hour had given her food Tor whole
days of pleasant thought. Oh how de-
lightful it would be if Sir Fairfax would
really seek to continue the acquaintance
TO be in his society sometimes and hear
his sweet, earnest voice, would be bright
spot in ner future life.
There was smile on her face, as she
opened the gate and walked across the
lawn to her aunt's bay-windoWed house.
She was hardly conscious all the evening
that the old ladies were talking reproach-
fully to her, annoyed by her long absence
when there were woods to be sorted and
long whist to be played. She was only
bent on hearing the story of Sir Fairfax's
unrequitted love, and by most dextrous
maneuveaing she at last got Aunt Clara
on the subject. Christine learned Miss
Kenyon, the lady she had seen in church,
was an adopted child of Lady Gwynne's
that when she had first come to Dyomesne
three ye;,rs previously, Sir Fairfax had
fallen deeply in love with her, and she
consented to marry him, not having yet
seen his brother, who was in India.
When Capt. Gwynne returned, she trans
ferred her affections at once from Sir FAIR
fax to him. He grew fond of her, or per-
i haps was lattered by her presence, and
soon everything was known to the elder
brother At first he implored Miss Ken
yon not to give him up-then, finding
how Indifferent she was to him, and how
fond of his brother, he promised Cap
tain Gwynne thousand year in addi-
ton to what he had already allowed him
4 if he, would marry her and take her out
to India. Capt. Gwynne assented, stipu-
lating only that he should 60 first Ito get
everything ready,) he said.
Christine sighed when the story was
finished. GLOW could she How could
she !" she said to herself over and over
again man so kind, and good, and
generous, as am sure he must be-"
CHAPTER IT.
For the next few days Christine went
on thinking persistently of Sir Fairfaz
Gwynne She could not get him out o.
her head. In her daily rambles she hall
hoped, half feared to meet him. She
would not go down the river again, fol
ho
seeking him. She was conscious of q
Shade of disappointment on entering the
garden gate on her return-her chance
was gone for that day. She caught her
self looking forward quite eagerly to
Sunday, and would not own how disap
pointed she was not to see him in the
family pew
Two days afterwards she had great
surprise. A man brought a hamper from
the railway station three miles off, direct
ed "Mrs. Thelluson." Before opening ii
she stopped to wonder where it could
i possibly come from. She did not know a
single person in the world who was like
ly to send her anything. But when she
had unfastened the cord, and looked in
side, her heart gave great bound. There
lay the most exquisite bouquet of rare
flowers and underneath most tempting
array of dollhouse grapes and peaches.
"They can't be for me-" she said, read
ing the label again and again: "Mrs.
|Thelluson Fairbank." 1t was plain en-
ough, and Christine danced with childish
delight. Gould it possibly come from Sir
Fairfax ? But what could she tell her
aunt's? 1t would be quite true to say
she did not know where the hamper came
from, for after all it might not be from
him.
When her aunts heard of the ancny-
3Itmous present, they were curious beyond
measure, and would scarcely believe Chris