Connecticut western news., 1871-12-22
THE MYSTERY OF DIET HISGLEY.
 H yAgCHRxsrMAS STORY. siE hfHl @i

rAFCHREsTMAS STORY. sEfehfm a
 Go to Detchingley for the Christmas away from my happy home-away in the
 distant North! | do not suppose I looked
 pleased at this proposal of my fathers, which he announced to me at the boresaak last
 table one Novamber niornin4, but notwith. standing my 1psrraeiutdices, as Aunt Dorothy. V. the presiding gshius # T TDetShinelsy M q N was my, n.other's beloved sister, it was only a few days after that I had said goodbye to rapidly northwards, through the falling leaves and the fading flowers of the dying year. K sNlsi5
 .Aant Dorothy came out into the great gp hall to meet me, as alighted from the carriage, and my heart turned towards her with loyal love. z s'oll .. '5,,..a ..T'' --'
 sYou have another aunt, you know,
 Edie, dear," she said.s q Come, now, and , Aunt Myra Westwood sat all alone, bSy, the great log fire in the dfawiRg-room. ! saw it once that Aunt Myra was not | pretty woman, nor aught that is beautiful or lovely; but coldiy, defiantly handsome ]; and the quick eye of youth told me that theFea was a mystery about her, and that we should not be good friends until it was unrayeled. goao9 -7s ei 7t l'AA a1s9 ito I do not suppose shah eyer forget my my first evening at Detchingiey -the small dinner party of three ladies; the quaint, dark, wainscoted dining groom ], the quainter and darker f,.n1ily portrnits hanging round us on the walls, like rnutes ut . funeral {: the metallic voice of Aunt Myra falling echoless on my ear, and the sweet, tremu- lous one of Aunt Dorothy, like notes of the dear home music. slI was very glad when we rose to go into the drawing-room As we were crossing the hall, just by the fcot of the stairs, I n@ticed bosh ladies glance quickly and most uneasily up them. I followed their glance, but the only thing tAat attracted my attention was portrait the full length portrait of . lady in a carved oaken framea yearning, wistfpl facs, shadowed by rich, soft, hair. and lighted by eyes that had ! story in them. J Isn't it . family portrait2" I asked, i@ or only an ideal subject 2i. 2ni ,..'. q I appealed to Aunt Myra., < Ideal you win ind it, Edith, in every sense, . she replied, but there wss something in her tone, something in the. way in which she covered her eyes with her hands as if shc would shut out the picture from. their gaze, that for an instant staEtled nc, mo but [ only replied h' @ ai,piiS,' a.,a5 .s,s m t =, osa <
 1t is a very wonderful, beautiful paint, ing = ,.sfddl should love love Uncle Charles to see !. The tangled netting 1t this moment raa tof feil 6om Aunt Dorothy''s nervous fingers. and she sprahg before me towards her sister !; for the told, white hand had fallen pulse less to that iadys s1d side Aunt yra had
 Aunt Dorothy turned suddenly eaf on me s suddenly, almost sharply, it seemed to. me and said: ss You must bc tired, Edith. with your long jopF7nnesy te bed bed now, q I-slept very little that night, and many, many, times wished myself hene again. ssi' VT = Three or four days passed away. very Dorothy, but I shrank intuitively from Aunt Myra. I fslt that sbe repelled me me Ta only endured my presence because I gave had made me | little acquainted with her called s well born r but that she had de scended from such an ancient line as the names recorded on the old church walls told me she he3 had was % %ats ,uaS unknown eFEn to I left Detchingfsy church that Sunday afternoon under the impression that [ had been sojourning for brief while in 1 vast charnel house of the family of Westwood ;, for almost !nGmbsrless, it tappeared to me, were the tablets, scrolls, and 1a storied urnsn whereon were traced the names of my mothers ancestors. '. .'..ser e.,' s ,.l = ! As I walked slowly along, white mar bie cross, rising from among the green mounds attracted ny attention. read
 faa .1adto lIaAa hsesi8 b4e h95sst ls ; Fas.,I..s l" TO. THE MEMORY, ,eF1h .a 4E4s, eFI "a KATHARINE WESTWO0D,s 4a :, Who departed this life, Dec. 24th, 1S-,y
 AGED 20 YEARs.n
 A Westwood lying out in the open graveyard b1 Was there moi fooim in the church. for this young girl to sleep beneath the dust-covered banners and rusty armor |? q My nindTwas dwelling on the discovery ! had just made 1t was only natural that shonlu turn to my companion and say:I l dN Who was Kathsxineo oWestwood P d j. Short and prompt was the answer I re-s ceiyed: