The Republican journal., 1870-03-03
MADAM Walls STORY.
AS TOLD BY HER HoUsEKEErER

Seeing that some persons, either wilfully
OF otherwise, have made a remarkable story
of the affair of my late mistress, Madam Alb
igail Vail, Bardens Wood near Bolton, I,
Martha Hobson, consider it my duty to eX-
plain the matter as it actually occurred before
my own eyes:
had been II years housekeeper and con-
fidental attendant to Madam VAIL when she
was taken with what proved her last illness.
She was quite old-nigh upon three-and-sev
enty, though up to this time she had enjoyed
tolcrable health. She had been a widow and
childless for more than 40 years, in which
time she had lived very secluded at Barden's
Wood, about mile from Boltontown. She
got the place from her husband. 1t had been
very grand in its day, but at this time was a
dingy, gloomy, rather tumble-down old
house, though the lands were valuable as
everybody knew 1t was said there were
lead aud silver on one part of the place,
| which if worked, would have brought for
tune. The old lady's kin, who expected to
be her heirs, were very anxiou to persuade
her to it; and Mr.. Simon Vail even brought
up to Barden three gentlemen one a miner
alogist, and the others clever looking business
agents, to examine the mine and make terms
with her, but it was all in vain. She wouldn't
even listen to what they had to say She
was old, she said and didn't want to be both
cred with such things in the remnant of her
days. She hadn't long to live, and when she
was gone her heirs could do as they pleased
about her property but for herself, all that
she desired was to be let alone, to live and
die in peace. And as they left the house. |,
peeping through the closet door at the head
Of the stairs, heard Mr.. Simon muttering
something about ''pig-headed, obstinate
old case''
| had never much fanced Mr.. Simon,
though most people liked him, and he was
the old lady's fayorite. I thought he smiled
too much, and there was a sort of watchfill
yness in his grey eyes that reminded me of
a cat. Still | knew no harm of him. He
wasn't madam's own blood relation; only a
nephew of her husband Her own kin were
few enough and distant enough. Miss Are
thusa Mills and Miss Grace Brown were the
nearest OF these-great-nieces both of them ;
and these two, with Mr.. Simon, and old DR..
Hurdle and his wife, and young Capt Findley
| and Mr.. Podgers, We're all that she'd includ-
| ed in her will I didn't particularly like any
of them, and it was my private opinion that
! none OF them cared overmuch for the old lady,
| though she wouldn't have believed it. so at
| tentiTe and respectful and affectionate as
they all behaved. Miss Grace was the only
one who never made any show Of being fond
of her, and Miss Arethusa often used to re-
mark in the old lady's hearing, how cold and
selfish the girl was. I didn't think so; but
Miss Grace was Young and pretty, while
Mis., "T1uoe. t,.,I " ;tilu Jy
means beauty, with her long neck and
dangling ringlets, and the everlasting sim
| per on her thin lips. SO it was natural that
she shouldn't be overfond of Miss Grace
They both had to stay a good deal at Barden's
Wood for they had no money OF homes of
their own. Miss Arethusa generally made
friends and stayed around; but Miss Grace
was quiet and retiring and most people
thought her cold.
Ever since Miss Grace had been sixteen,
Madam Vail had wanted her to marry young
Captain Findley, who in his visits to Barden
had fallen in love with her. But she told her
aunt Vail that she had promised to marry
| young Doctor Lee, as soon as he had finished
his studies and settled into practice in Boil
ton. He was tine young man, of good
family, but as poor as a church mouse; and
Madam didn't approve of the match. She
argued and coaxed and threatened and storm
ed; but Miss Grace's only answer was, Il
love him, Aunt Vail, and he loves me.
have promised to become his wife, and ought
to cling to him the more on account of his
poverty" So at last the old lady got very
angry, and threatened not to leave her a pen
ny unless she gave up Doctor Lee. But Miss
Grace, though gentle, was firm I know that
at the time of the last illness of the old lady
she had actually made a will, cutting oil
Miss Grace with a quarter of what she had
left each OF the others, with the ex xception of
Mr., Simon, to whom she had bequeathed
most of her property. 1t had been all left
her by her husband to do with as she pleas
ed.
; [ was sitting knitting in madam's room at
the time she was seized with the fit, which
was the commencement of her last illness
From the first she seemed persuad ed she
would not recover, and as soon as she was
little rallied began to make preparations fol
the end. Among other things she made me
bring her in presence fDr. and Mrs. Hurdle,
and Mr.. Simon and Miss Arethusa, a little
ebony box with silver mountings, which she
had always kept locked in her private secre-
tary. This she unlocked, and took out three
large gold lockets containing miniatures of
her husband and four children, the latter of
whom had died in early childhood. | had
never heard her mention them, nor had any
one dared to do so in her presence-for we
all knew how terribly she had taken on at
their deaths. Yet now she appeared quite
calm, as she looked at them one by one, and
then handed them to me to put under her
pillow till her lawyer should arrive. She
| I'SNAiN AhSioSl S3lfC lIlclu u ulI1, WllOm she
had appointed her executor.
They are to be put in my coffin and buried
with me-" she said in conclusion 81 fancy
can rest better with these dear faces beside
me; and there is no one living who would
prize them as l would wish"
"Ah Aunt Abigail" said Miss Arethusa
reproachfully, and lifting her pocket hand
kerchiefto her eyes,
Dear Aunt Abigail' said Mr. Simon, ca.
gerly. "dont be so unjust to me, at least
This is the portrait of my dear uncle, and
those of my darling little cousins Iremem-
Der them as if it were but yesterday Dear
aunt, you must know how dearly should
prize them for both your sake and theirs''
AS he spoke he took the lockets from my
hands, and turned to the window, as ifto ex-
anime the paintings, though saw he was
looking closely at the setting. This was of
white brilliants which in the light shone daz.
zlingly.
"No, Simon," said the old lady to his ap-
peal; 'no. Simon, those dear faces must be
buried with me. 1t will be comfort to have
them near me even in DEATH
"What, just as theyiare, aunt ?" asked Miss
Arethusa hesitatingly, also glancng at the
settings.
"Just as they are," she repeated feebly.
~