The Portland daily press., 1872-08-03
BESSY HAY.

vine, while Paul EStc0tt stood leaning against
the messy trunk of the pear tree, twisting a
stem of blue-bells in his hand.
81 know Pm poor, Bessy," he said, resum-
ing conversation which had apparently
lapsed into silence for moment or so; "but
1 suppose poor people have right to live and
be happy as well as rich ones"
Il suppose SO, too, Paul"
"And | am sure am willing to work, if
only could find something to do"
Bessy glanced daprecatingly at him.
"Mr. Elton wants some one to take the
farm and work it"
''That is mere drudgery, and, besides, the
pay would not enable me to marry and sup
port wife comfortably"
eve could wait, Paul"
"You are very willing" said the young
man bitterly. 81 don't believe, Bessy, that
you care for me as l do for you''
sob, Paulp'
And panied look came over the fair young
face.
''Well, then, what do you think of being
tutor to to Mr.. SinclaiEs little bows ?'
''Thank you; don't fancy the idea of be-
ing toad-eater to pompous aristocrat like
Henry Sinclair
'Bnt, Paul, we can't always do aud be
what we like in this world,' pleaded Bessy,
with troubled look shining in her tender,
garnet-brown eyes.
Easy philosophy for youv'
And the young man threw down his stem
of blue-bells.
81 suppose you would like to have me
break stones upon the roads. 1 thought at
least you could sympathize with the feeling
of a gentleman"
80 do, Paul; but I believe in the Scrip
ture doctrine of a mans doing with all his
might whatever his hands find TO do.'
Il see how it is" said Paul Estcott, haught-
lily; you are weary of your engagement;
you want to break the worldly letters that
bind you, Very well so let it be- You are
freer'
And he strobe away over the high grass.
muttering to himself something about ebay
ing suspected how it would turn out, ever
since Morton Van Brugh had come down
from London to sketch the scenery, and turn
the heads Of all the girls.'
Bessy Hay made step or two to overtake
him, but she checked herself in an instant
with scarlet stain on her check, and gath
erlng mist in her eyes.
HE ought to know better" she thought.
land he does. No; l will not follow him.
He will come back to me, when the moment
airy pique has worn itself away"
In the meanwhile, Paul, vaulting over the
low stone wall few PAGES below, had very
nearly stumbled over the PROSTATE form of a
man lying among the red clover blossoms. in
the island of shade cast by an outrageous
tree, and reading.
"Mr. Van Brugh.'
The young artist glanced up with sort of
lazy scorn showing under his long dark eve
lashes. Paul bit his lip.
Engaged in the noble occupation of caves
dropping eh ?" he uttered.
Come now, Estcott, don't be crusty;
didn't mean to overhear your conversation.
but what was a fellow to do? This is the
jOlliest place on the whole farm, and 1 wasn't
to blame because Miss Hay came out looking
like Hebe's self, to gather red currants, and
you followed like her shadow. Come. let.
so down by the trout stream, and talk over
matters and things in general Are YOU real
ly in earnest about wanting something to do ?''
:Of course l am.''
Then suppose you just glance over this
letter that received this morning from nv
uncle. I've no idea of expatriating myself
among the pgtailed celestials, for all the for
tunes that ever were made. But for an am
bilious man-Read the letter, that's al'
Paul Estcott obeyed, almost dazzled for the
moment by the brilliant prospect it seemed
to open to him.
"You really give the privilege of accepting
or refusing this situation ?' he exclaimed.
Il really do; and, considering that don't
want it myself, it is no very great stretch of
generosity on my part. Only, you see, you
have to decide at once, and be in the city to
report yourself at my uncle's counting-hOuse
within four and twenty hours"
Paul sprang up, flushed and eager
''Pll do it. Tll show Bessy Hay that I am
no do-nothing after all, when motive really
worth my while presents ITSELF Butt glanc-
ing at his old-fashioned silver watch, II have
no time to lose." -
''Not second.'t
'But my trunk?'
You can get what you need in town; my
uncle supplies the OUTFIT
"And Bessya" I'D
Write her tonight; my uncle will for
ward the letter under cover to me, and will
see that she gets it,
Paul Estcott wrung his companions hand.
"4o GU are very kind" he said, huskily. 81
had almost grown to regard you with dis
trust" 1871 III I7HD'T
Van Brugh laughed, showing his dainty,
pearl-white teeth under brown moustache.
Never judge by appearances" he said,
Take my word for it, Miss Hay will excuse
all lack OF ceremony when she learns all,o
Mr.. Van Brugh accompanied Paul to the
railway station, and saw him off with
smillngy uttered profision of good wishes.
The best friend a fellow ever hadr'
thought Paul as the train moved off.
But he could not see the sardonic grin into
which the curves OF the farewell smile altered
when the little country station was left once
more to silence and lonliness
"Now," said Morton Van Brugh, CT shall
have the field all to myself Strange how
fascinated have allowed myself to become
with mere country girl! But therSecer-
talnly is something very winning in her type
of beauty"
Bessy Hay never answered Paul Estcott's
farewell letter, nor did the Latter once su,-
pect that it was because Mr.. Van Brugh
never had delivered it,
Paul, firing up under the fevered impulses
Oh MS Old enemy, Jealousy, took refuge in
silence. Nor did a long epistle from his
Aunt Jemima, which contained more news
possible, probable and impossible-than any
government bulletin, served to cool the flames.
Folks say" wrote the epistolary spinster.
that Eliza Hay is going to marry the wild
over, Sinclair, because he's rich. There was
deal OF talk about her and that young Van
Brugh, but he went away all of a sudden.
folks thought it likely with flea in his ear
Eliza knows pretty well which side her bread
is buttered on, and Sinclair can't live long
with that cough of his"
IL was no wonder then that when prettv
Bessy Hay made an excuse to come to Aunt
Jemima's and asked wistfully and with GER
tain culver in her voice, if Paurs letter con-
tanned no message for her, the elderly gossip
mOnger answered.:
Lear Hle, no! 1Ou dldnt expect to hear,
did you?"
Bessy went back home, her little heart as
cold as lead in her bosom.
She had refused Norton Van Brugh; she
sad Mo- to Mr.. Sinclair, in spite of Aunt
1elhima knowing representations and peo-
PIE began to wonder ii pretty Bessy Hay
was gong TO be an old maid after all.
why uoeSh he write to me, or send me
go az 60 |" moru 10 snow that he has not ut
'etly Iprgo5ten meT' thought Bessy.
why doesn't she answer NV letter o.,
thought Paul. my ie''er
So the world wagged on, until Mr. Estcott
came home from the far off fiowerv lard a~d"
not, indeed, with the fortune of which n.
had dreamed in such sanguine fashion hit
with sufficient competence to live we'll and
comfortable in place as modest as his ma
tive village.
1t was stormy November evening. with
threatenings Of snow in the chill air. and
the low wind stirring the last withered leaves
upon the boughs, when he alighted at the sta
ton, looking almost into the eyes OF Bessy
hay, who had come to the post-office to ask
once again for the letter that never came.
now seldom are our visions realized!
bessy had dreamed thousand times of
meeting Paul Estcott, but never in such a
"Paulv' she quivered.
an. SAD Paul, dofing his stylish fur
travelling cap, 81 hope Won Arc Iii =, A''
Sinclair as yet. Ao W call her Mrs.
The red stains of sunset bod