Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1871-11-25

lett out OF your composition, YOU know. so don't
you love me-"
:. We shall miss the train, my dear" was his
matter-ot-fact reply.
/ That's common sense, y said Mary. " Now
\ a last look at our future home-eh, father?"
/ and with strange revulsiOn of feeling Miss
| Ashton turned away TO hide the tears that
rushed TO her eyes.
Back under the trembling shadows and
/ though the lane they went, talking busily now;
/ the father spinning like hopeful spider webs
that should catch all the unwary flies in the
4 worlds market; the dau ghter, with her strong
/ clear sense, ihwardly gTieying over his ohSti-
! macy and weakness, vet fOrbearing to brush the
I slender fabric away that looked 50 captiyating
as we spare fragile gossaDer bright with MORN
/ ing dew.
Mr.. Ashton had not been one of the listeners
/ 10 the VIII; his daughter had kept him back
/ from Ashton Court, and almost made him for
7 get It's existence; but through the past summer
/ he had brOOdci over the conditions of the will
and made up his mind, as he did once or twice
/ IN dozen years An easy man, generally, he
I was stubborn "A mule when he firmly re-
/ solved, and all Mary's entrcaties had been in
vain; that visit to Ashton Court settled the mat
ter. The pleasant cottage home in the village,
i'm the churchyard of which Mary's mother was
laid at rest under the daisies, was given up and
/ the furniture sold; Mary obtained a situation as
/ gOverness in family near Ashton Court, and
I her father took up his abode i'm London
The dust grew thicker in the rooms of Ashton
I Court; the Autumn winds whisted dreariIy
around It's silent walls and the leaves fell fast
.
mer came again, browning the year with glad
ness, ard sad-eyed Autumn plucked one by one
the garlands from his brow, and flung them
grey and withered before the throne of Winter
Chrlstmas-the second Christmas since Squire
A>htOn's death-was drawing near Still Mary
remained in her situation, and her father toiled
in London.
CHAPTER III.
fire was brightly burning in the low. school
room CRATE, and Mary sat by il with the chill
dren round her, telling them a story. The lit
Tie audience raised a murmur OF Misrepresentation
when the door opened, and their mother came
10 the cheerful group.
"NOw, ma, Miss Arden is telling us what be-
came OF the princess with the silver wand; go
away, please"
Very sorry, little ones,o she replied, "but I
want Miss Arden, If she will come. There are
some visitors in the drawing room. my dear"
added the pleasant mistress of the house. " Will
you play that duet with POlly?"
Certainly, Mrs. Gay" said Mary, rising
T." Children be very good, and will finish to-
morrow evening the story of the princess
Mary knew most OF the visitors, but Mrs. Gay
introduced her to a stranger, a tall, handsome
young man, who followed Polly and Miss Arden
TO the pianofOrte, in the endeavor to satisfy
himself whether the quiet gOverEeSs was really
as plain As he thought at the first glance, and
he stood there watching with curious, admirng
eyes, the changing expression of that wonderful
W ell, Miss Arden,' asked Mrs. Gray, after
The evening was over, 'what do you think of
Nothing in particular, Mrs. GAY" laughed
isn't he?"
Did you know he is connection of the Ash
tons" asked Mrs. Gray, somewhat abruptly.
I'll never heard anything about him, Mrs
Gay" said Mary, starting.
a. He is, then, my dear, and runs very fair
chance OF winning Ashton Court. He has been
abroad for years, and got on very well. We
knew him well when his mother was living, and
a. he Is now staying at Haberton, he came over
to see us Poor fellow, he hasn't a near relation
in the world
Lucky Young man." said Mary, wiIfuIly.
:. The Ashtons are not renowned for kindness
"Ah, Miss Arden, it is sad to he alone in the
world, said Mrs. Cav; ''but by the by, John is
the only good-looking Ashton ever saw in my
life. He Is like his father"
g The Ashtons are not very handsome then?'
asked Mary.
".As ugly as al Ashton is almost a proverb
IN the country, my dear" replied Mrs. Cav,
but here am, chattering, keeping you out of
bed. Good night, my DEAR
Little Mrs. Gay hustled away, satisfied she
had laid the first foundation of plan she had
formed, which was to result in a marriage b.
tween the possible lord of Ashton and her gov
erneSss, whom she had loved almost like a
daughter.
Mary was sorely troubled, and yet relieved, by
what Mrs. Gray had told her, for nOw surely,
her father would give up his wild dreams, and
come back to the old, quiet life; and yet the
thought distressed her that her father once in
volved in the whirlpool OF city business, would
never be the same again, and that their old ex-
forever. Wondering how she could discover the
truth of Mrs Gays surmlses, she formed MANY
plans and stratagems; but by a sudden bit OF
good fortune, she gained without trouble the de-
sired information next day.
In the afternoon she was walking with her
pupils rapidly across the frosty common, so
be autiful in Summer. so blank and dreary now,
then they came on Mr.. Ellis, leaning against
one of the great boulders. and looking m Ii
tatively on the woods of Ashton in the valley
below.
Saucy Polly, the eldest of the girls, after the
greetings were exchanged.
The old lady doesn't look very inviting to-
day. Ell, Miss Polly" he answered.
She has on her Winter cloak of russell
brown, Mr.. Ellis, and the fairies are trimming
II with silver fringe" said Mary gaily, &" 1 love
a Winter landscape when am walking. Come
children and she went quickly on, Mr. Ellis
with them, to the great amusement of the little
ones.
ASHTON looks very lovely even now said
the young man, evidently following his own
lonely thoughts, rs he glanced beneath them.
- Very" said Mary; ''it is dear old place.
The owner will be very fortunate in having
'.Will he, Miss Arden?' he asked "He
ought to be; but-heighO. 4 don't care much
about it." Seeing strange look pass over his
companions face, he added grayely, - Do YOU
Miss Arden?"
''IaIat would depend on the use you made of
your wealth, Mr.. Ellis. You would be expected
rarely are, think
''Why, Miss Arden" he asked.
" You will smile at my philosophy, dare saw"
she replied, smiling; "'but when L hear people |
say of any one, 80 How lucky she is, she never |
! al a sorrow i'll her life, 1 can never believe |
that person Is really happy, for she doesn't know
the value of her blessings 1t is only after |
gloom and storm that We truly enjoy the sun |
shine and feel how beautiful il is"
80 Then L ought to be very happy, Miss Ar
den," said Mr.. Ellis; ''fOr after many years |
wand' ring, after loss of home and friends [ |
tn myse W althy, with friends dd IN fnitun at |
my command. Dear me, when a fellow gets |
rich, how soon the bright side of the worlds |
face turns toward him."
"Ah, MIR. Ellis" said the governess, "dOn't |
begin by doubling poor humanity, for you will |
end, fear, by turning Ashton Court into pri |
waite lunatic asylum."
She spoke so quantity that Mr. Ellis could not |
help laughing, and the conversation dropped, |
for they had reached Mrs. Gays The young |
gel tleman declared that he had intended COM |
ing over to call at Fairlelgh that afternoon; so
he walked in, and with very little persuasion, |
stayed the ev ening. |
Before Mary slept that night, she wrote to her |
father, telling him the news and begging him |
% leave London and come home once more.
She did not receive answer for a week, and |
then he wrote so wildly, 80 incoherently, that |
Mary was alarmed for his reason, and wrote |