Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1873-06-14

modatlon, 1t Will be best gained there.
How does it look outside ?"
And, followed by Mr.. Ambrose, he
went through the door, and ventured
to look at Mrs. Henry.
She was standing in her place, and
making the children form classes as if
nothing had happened. Her face be-
trayed no sign of emotion and when
/ took Mrs. Ambrose's arm and wished
her good afternoon, she replied in her
usual voice. The little scene we had
witnessed might have been a dream for
all traces it left behind. l got Mrs.
Ambrose out, and was thankful that the
door closed behind us before she made
a remark.
"My dear, what does it mean3" she
whispered nervously, as we stood in
the yard.
"Never mind only don't talk about
it." / replied in the same voice for the
bishop and the vicar were coming round
the corner.
"I think you dine at seven, Mr..
Ambrose ?" said his lordship serenely.
eyes, my lord"
"Then will take a little stroll. L
have hardly had enough walking to-
day, and [ should like to see q little
of your beautiful neighborhood.
Without another word we marched
way down the hill, and a few minutes
later we saw his shovel hat going along
the field pathway to the river.
We three went home in silence; but
as we parted at the vicarage gate, Mr..
Ambrose said: "We always knew that
she was a lady"
go, my dear Justin, I had forgotten
that" exclaimed his wife, in relieved
tone. "Ihen you don't think it any
thing improper?"
Heaven knows what terrible things
the poor lady had been imagining dur
ing our silent walk but the wears
ringing laugh swept them all away.
Improper No. It's all right, of
course; only it's no business of ours"
That was quite true; but neverthe-
less L could not help thinking of it all
the time was having my tea, and while
I was dressing for dinner; for of course
I was going to meet the bishop. And 1
thought of it again later for as my fly
passed the school-house door, the
bishop, who had evidently returned
from his walk, was coming out of it, and
[ heard him say: 81 shall see you to-
morrow morning, Hester"
"Don't; you had better not, replied
Mrs. Henry's voice.
"Nonsense," said the bishop.
And privately believe that he ran
all the way to the vicarage for he was
there before [ was, and only kept us
waiting five minutes for dinner.
Two months later her majestys in
spector came to examine our school !;
and to his astonishment and our glorif-
cation, every child presented passed
triumphantly. We had reckoned on
eighty per cent. /; we got q hundred
But trouble was coming upon us, and
our triumph was short-lived. One day
Mrs. Henry came to the vicar, and gave
notice that she must leave in three
months. In vain he entreated her to
stay /; offered to raise her salary; to do
anything, in short, if she would only
remain. But she merely smiled and
adhered to her determination.
They told me almost with tears in
their eyes, and said: "It's all the
bishop"
At which they laughed but I knew
[ was right. l had seen, if they hadn't,
that a change had come over our mis-
tress since the visitation. She was
happier, more at rest; the look of
strained WEAKNESS, 80 habitual to her
face before, was gone now, and little
smiles used to come ripping over the
lips that once were set so firm.
I was very sorry to lose her but 1
was sure she was going to be happier
away from st. Bridget's. And the even
ing before she left us, when I went
to say good-by, she took hold of my
hand and kissed it, and told me all her
story.
Her realname was Mrs. Henry Champ
neys. Her husband, captain in the
til regiment, had been killed by ac-
cident in the hunting field thus the
price of his commission was lost, and
she found heavy debts, of which she
had known nothing-debts which she
ought never tohave known at all-ready
to swallow up the little money they had
left. Her own settlement of hundred
a year was all she had to depend upon,
and there were two children-bright,
handsome boys-to educate and pro-
vide for. So she put them to school,
and went into training for certificate !;
got it without difficulty, and came to st.
Bridget's.
"And L had to save every penny, and
be very careful, or the dear boys would
have suffered" she said 'for 1 wanted
to provide for the future. 1t was very
hard work, and very lonely. L used to
write stories in the evening, and some
times the magazines would take them,
sometimes not; but it was my only
chance of getting more money"
" My dear, my poor dear, how could
you do it all ?" I cried, while the tears
ran down my face.
"It was not so very bad, as I had
not been used to very happy life."
I don't know anything about Captain
Champneys but L was sure he was
brute after that little speech.
But now are you going to be hap
py?" asked.
eyes, I hopo So" she whispered
putting her arms round my neck. "I
knew him years ago, before I was mar
ried, and-and--he says he never forgot
me-"
"Of course not. How could he ?" I
replied, and kissed her again.
"When am gone, and it is over, q
will send you newspaper,) will you tell
Mr.. and Mrs. Ambrose all about it
they have been so kind ?"
1 promised to do what she wished,
and with another kiss on her little face,
and a glance at the shabby dress and
quaint cap which I should never see