The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1870-08-18

~S' F ~Pou AAA OuCUm1WGaOlY.
What had he done? What would the
world, At least Its representatives in this
neishborhood, say he had done? Thew
talked Of Miss Crevillon as an heiress.
That the suppositlon Was "a likely to be
false ss true he belleyed. BE cared
nothing about it, bat then Who would
believe that of him? Z. +
He turned away from tho Dykeham
lodge and passed on. He went home
and ate his dinner drearily, wondering
it Amy had told Sir Francis, and if SO,
what had Sir Francis said and lastly,
what would Sir Francis say to letter
which was even then in course of CON-
pilation in the young mans mind?
"@ CHAPTER III.
-''' TIE YOUNG nay noou.
It shone already in the evening sky.
while the departing sun scattered tiuts
of gold and purple over The earth, and
threw long shadows down from the
trees in the Dy keham shrubbery.
For . whole month until now DR..
Seeker had seen Amy but once, and
that once accidentally. Coming out of
that region in tho town Of Redford
which was called emphasicslly the Irish
quarter, Carl, emerging suddenly into
one Of the broader streets, saw the
dark-blue panels of the Dykeh.m car
ri'ge IS it drove past. He saw also +.
quick, impul*ive, aud openly eager re-
cognition of himself - he stood in
taht dark opening which led to the
Irish quarters, and he forgot al the
misery he had left behind him to follow
in his thoughts that carriage up the
Dykeham drive. He had seen her, and
had been recognized. It was odd, he
thought, that this sense Of contrast
should 80 pertiuaeiously trouble him.
There was something which would not
bear analysis. Only tho thing was,
had he been wise and right in trying
to bring Amy down from this luxurious
life Of hers Was it right Of him to
wish that she could share his auxieties
and cares q we'll NJ bn joys7 DR..
Seeker could not answer the question
to his own satisfaction. If he had been
less thoughtful and clear-aghted he
might have said, "She shall never know
anything but joy; my cares I will keep
from her; ;" bat he knew better than
to cay so, or think so.
Since that meeting in Redfosd, how
ever, the aspect Of affairs had changed
a little. The doctor had got the ans
wer from Sir Francis, and found him
self hardly able to comprehed his Own
position. Sir Francis represented him.
self As standing in the place Of Amy's
father: He could not give his consent
to his wards entering into any such
engagement as the one Dr.. Seeker did
her the honor to propose,-at present.
He considered that she Was very young,
too young, indeed, to know her own
mind. He required that she should zee
q little more of tho world before enter
ing into one Of those rash eonpacts
which young people are 50 ready to
make and 50 apt to regret. He did not
Wish to be tyrannical; 60 far Is he
could see there was no need for any
violent rupture between his ward and
Dr.. Seeker. Such things were always
remarked upon and productive Of
misohievous gossip. He thought it
better, however, that they. SHOULD not
meet often just At present and then
Sir Fraucis prosed little and finished
of, leaving tho doctor n = hopeless
maze Of uneertaiaty and confusion. It
seemed to him that the whole thing
vas treated in, the slightest possible
way, IS an affair Of no importance,
which was, in fact, exactly the view
SIR Francis wished to be taken of it.
He did not wish to oppose his ward
With any strength Of eatresty or COM
maud a.; it would, he thought, be both
troublesome and productive of harm
instead Of good and a. he meant to
remove her from tho doctors neighbo1-
hood, there was no need absolutely to
forbid their meeting At present.
But the doctor did not wait to be
forbidden !; he would not go to Dyke
ham to put himself in the way of be-
ing iusulted by Lady Crevillon or her
hu.b,nd. His resolution might have
failed him; the fever of indignation
and pride into which he had worked
himself might not be strong enough
to keep him away when he heard
about tho town journey; but before he
did hear Of it chance favored him.
Hs saw Amy at the Dykeham lodge in
passing, and then oil his anger, and
pride, and selftorment fed away, and
in another moment he was walking up
the drive with her. He would do
nothing underhanded; if he met her
and spoke to her they should know
that he did 80 snd therefore he meant
to 60 up the whole length Of the drive,
into the shrubbery, and before the win
dows, in order that no one might .c-
euse him of5any clandestine dealing.
| "Aud 90 Sir Francis didn't tell you 2"
began Amy. And then she stopped
aud looked at the Doctor, With the dy-
ing sunlight on his face, and an in.