Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1871-08-25

Remond," be said; but he looked alto.
gether too much afraid of Count Remond
to advance further than six steps from the
door, where be stood bowing.
"You are Timothy Brown, my good
man, l suppose
Remond rose and kicked the brands into
fuller blaze.
Il wish you to tell me truly now. did
my Uncle Gregory live here forty years?''
"He did, sir count. Why shouldn't
be p
"And died of rheumatism. suppose?'
"No, Count Remond. He died of ap-
oplexy."
us it possible? Well. you want my
orders, I suppose. The 6rst is to make a
rousing fire in every room under this roof,
and to keep them burning day and night
until this deadly chill is banished from
the house."
Timothy stared, then left the room in
silence.
This was not Remond's first visit to
Eng gland, but he knew that it was his final
one, and he determined not to die of cold
at the start. The fires blazed, the pasty
smoked, the place became habitable, bare
ly habitable to him.
I After dinner he went out, petted Gear,
and looked around disconsolately. The
birds flew away from before him, the crows
swan through the air, calling monoton-
ously; the sun had gone under cloud,
the rain began to fall Remond retreated
to the house, and ordered more fire made.
A boy had been summoned by this time,
sturdy villager, who tended fires all
night.
Three days the rain fell, and Remond
walked the floor and meditated his plans
He had exhausted his inheritance 10
France, but here was fresh fortune to
begin upon. He hoped it would last him
until his next benefactor died-his pater.
nal grandfather, who had promised him
half a million-and went to sleep upon a
sofa.
The etorm-had passed when he awoks.e=
the sun streamed through the trees into
the windows in broken shafts-but he did
not at first perceive this. His eyes open
ed upon soft round face set in sunshiny
curls, and with sweet hazel eyes fixed
earnestly upon him.
Little Matilda" he said, what dc
you want p
"If you please. Count Remond, my
mother has sent up your dinner; here ii
is on the tray-roast hare. and jelly, and
sauces. But it is getting cold, SIR"
"a very good dinner, and you are q
nice little girl. But 1 must tell you what
the little maids in France used to bring
me. Sit down then, pray do. I am very
lonesome Right on this old tabouret,
where I can look at you while I eat my
dinner. Well, you see-''
They amused each other for hours--he
with her innocence, she with bis wit.
Much as the rank garden offended
Count Remond's taste, be was too lazy to
have it revolutionized. He contented
himself with having the lawns shaved, the
shrubbery trimmed around the house, the
yews cut down-great was>old Timothy's
horror!-and building an arbor-trellis here
and there, over which the thickets of rose
vines were trained. In these arbors be
spent much of the summer days.
And sometimes pretty Matilda was miss
ing. The mother would hunt high and
low, and could not find her. The girl
would come at last with flushed cheeks
and light in her eyes. She had only
been in the garden, she said.
The summer and fall passed, the winter
came. Remond went much to London
was absent from the Ycws weeks at time.
There was housekeepcr and French
cook at the great house. Old Timothy
and his family had little cottage at the
end of the grounds. Matilda said that il
was lonesome spot; she grew pale, wa.
sad, listless and moody. Her gay child.
heart seemed all gone.
One day old Timothy discovered tha
} his daughter had been disgraced, ane
, turned her out Of the house.
A furious March storm was beating ant
bending the old red oaks. Desperate ant
despairing. she fought her way up to th,
great house. There were guests in tb,
long drawing-room-the Bromleys, an,
beautiful Bertha Fame. Matilda went i,
5 and fell down at Remond's feet and beg
! ged him to shelter her.
He was furious. But he pot her nniet