The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1870-01-25

AuIIie was agtldSO.-;ln OLD DaCnelOr -
not so old either, not more than forty
and shea young wdow-what would be
thought if she should be discovered 4
But the comforts of the hospitable old
mansion, and of being under the protec-
ton OF some one, even as his housekeeper,
had began to creep into her lonely heart,
and even if she could have found any ex-
cuse for leaving, she c ,uld not bear to
think of it. So she firmly resolved that
nothing should cause her to reveal herself.
She would keep constant watch over her.
self and he should never know that his
housekeeper was under thirty-fve.
Well-she was introduced into her du-
ties-one Of which she found was to pre-
side at the tea board. This was pleasant,
particularly as, under her ancient guise,
and as a dependent, Mr.. Marshal cen
descended to be very sociable, and find
ing her companionable he prolonged his
meal and conversation, till soon this hour
became the most interesting of the day to
him-as well as to her.
Every body likes to talk to a good list
ener, and Mr.. Marshal had travelled and
read much, descriptions Of en- and things.
lie was not slow to discover that he had
an extraordinary housekeepcr. 81 the tea
hour gradually heightened into the whole
evening, and it was not long before it was
her constant habit to spend the evening
IN the library, with her sewing, while he
talked or read to her. She was not suffi-
clently wellinformed about houeekeeper's
position, to see the absurdity of Il gentle
mans devoting his evenings to her enter
tainment and being accustomed to be
treated like a lady it never occurred to
her III t was anything unusual.
Meantime, he was engaged in new
to him-study.
Now, know that the orthodox way Of
bringing about the catastrophe Of the sto-
ry would be to bring down my hero with
some malignant disease, have all the ser
want fly, and his housekeeper alone nurse
HIM through a dangerous illness, to be
rewarded Of course, with his hand-what
was left Of it-when he was able to sit
up.
But I'm not cruel-and | havn't the
heart to do it, and, besides, the facts-to
which | confine myself-in a Measure
will not bear me out in any such poetical
fiction.
The facts then Ga Ia Gradghnd) are
these:
Annie's love of truth and honor had
been waging continual warfare all this time
with her dread of The World and Pow
erty'-two grim and horrible monsters to
womanhood, and it was not
Until a year had rolled around, that pow
er and truth gained the victory Annie
IN her serious meditations in her room fin
lilly resolved that she must seek cause
or leaving this home, which she sorrow
July admitted to herself, was becoming
90 pleasant for one who must fight with
The World for her bread. .'
The catastrophe-which my readers
nave Of course guessed before now,--else
Why indeed, should [ tell the story p
inally happened in this wise:
One evening Annie wentinto the libra
y, where he sat reading the papers, with
iNi' "h' hiAh' "uu was iuilS hclNCu up [
o her duty. He looked smlingly at her,
IS She appeared and as she sank into
| chair, quite unnerved'by that look, he
began himself:
Mrs Bronson" he said laying down
5he paper, and sitting himself in his easy
chair, would you mind leaving off that
lorrid widows cap? I'm sure you have
Dlenty of hair, and it is so suggestive Of
lead and buried perfections, that it is pain
tul to me"
The color came and went in Annie's
face She tried to speak, but somehow
she felt choked. 1t was hard, when he sat
here so pleasant and genial when the
jhe world was so cold and hard, and his
protection so dear, yes that was the word
that was the frightful thought, that
brought back strength to her voice, and
she said hastily:
"Mr. Marshal, | must leave you"
q l tell you l won't have it, Did you not
promise to stay two years, and have not
performed my part Of the contract"
She came now and stood before him
Mr.. Marshal, L have deceived you"