The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1874-08-13

redress from grief.
/ The children's education was intrusted
to the care of this young relative of the
| family-distant, but acknowledged; and al
though Miss Burton called herself by the
somewhat disparaging title of governess.
she would have taken great umbrage to
have been called thus by another. She
was virtually the queen of the household,
merely by the presence of the proprietor,
old Mrs. Mason, getting rid of the irksome
part of domestic cares. The eldest child.
boy, had been sent to a neighboring
school, and the two little girls were really
taught by the upper nurse. Miss Burton
carefully superintended their warirobes,
and prescribed the course of knowledge
which the nurse was able and willing to
impart. She also walked in the grounds
with her young relatives at a stated hour
every morning. So that, although the
household seemed to hang upon her con-
troll, her life was really an easy and pleas
ant one. As far as drudgery went, her po-
sition was a sinecure, and it should have
been-a thousand pities to have it other
wise.
So there was time and opportunity, and
every adjunct necessary to render her fas-
cnating. And from loving her outside
the gate, Phil fell to adoring her inside
the spiked inclosure.
Being really a handsome, well-grOwn
lad, his only drawback that hObbledehOy
dom that comes with first love, Miss Bur-
ton easily fOrgave that as natural cOnse-
quence. and allowed herself, | think, to
seriously grow fond of the boy. So did
the other members of the household. Mrs.
Mason had known his dead mother; he
was of that cathOlically courteous nature
that always wins the servants and hang
ers-On of an establishment and as for the
children, the little orphan girls (fOr their
father was the same as dead to them), it
became a matter of study to keep them
out of the way long enough TO enable him
30 put his passion into words. Which he
did before his ankle was sufficiently strong
to allow him to do it without a cane.
Walking down the familiar road, of the
very dust of which he had been yearning-
ly fond, leaning heavily upon his cane,
and lightly but rapturously upon Miss
BuTtOn's arm, he suddenly saw the very
pillar upon which his body came to grief.
but his soul to ecstasy. A few diScOlOred
streaks thereon Phil declared was his
blood.
"Shed willingly for you, Miss Burton" !"
he said aloud to her.
''For me ~ she exclaimed; ''why, what
nonsenser'
For you," he repeated, "always for
YOU. If it were my life-blOOd, and every
drop wrung from me by direst agony, /
would shed it all for yOur'
Then he dropped into a garden-seat, and
she stood irresolutely by, while he poured
out his soul in rhapsody of madness that
at last had its way with her.
You foolish boy" she cried, looking
down upon him caressingly, you will
make yourself i'll again. Get up this mo
ment. command you'll entreat you
do get off your knees, Phil, l beg of
you; you'll take cOld.'
"NOt till you give me your hand-yOur
heart.''
Well, take my hand, and help your
self up with it this moment! I'm so afraid
you'll be i'll -
"And you do love me-just a little?"
g love you great deal. you silly lad
ever so much. OF course | do"
"And you will marry me when
when"
"When you are old enough?'' Here
she laughed long and merrily. " That
was what you were going to say; you
know il was. Now think for yourself
what madness it is on your part. You are
mere boy yet, Phil dear, and why, |
am already almost an old woman; am
twenty-threew
So Miss Burton rdiculed tine depth aud
intensity of this passion which her young
lover declared was not matter Of time,
but eternity!
Nevertheless she granted Phil many
happy hours, which to this day he is CRATE
ful for, and encouraged him to that de-
gree that the lads head was filled with
schemes and aspirations of a domestic
character which would have done credit to
wiser head and more practical judg-
ment. He began TO look into his affairs,
to balance accounts. and take inventories,
which were also encouraging in their way,
for he was not badly off in the world, as |
said before. In the midst Of all this
Gerald Mason came home, the son of the
widow, the father of the orphans. He
burst in upon them suddenly one NOvem-
Der night. Phil had little Jessie Mason on
his knee, telling her fairy story, in which
the beautiful princess was SO accurately
and Vividly described that Jessie cried out,
.sWhy, that's like Cousin Clara"
80 il is Cousin Clara said Phil.
And then little Jessie began TO pOut, for
Cousin Clara was alive and before her, a
practical. humdrum reality, while the little
one wanted food for Imagination.
But soon she was on papa's knee, listen
ing TO wonderful adventures by sea and
! land. Facts became brighter and stranger
than fiction. All the little household, Phil
included, listened spell-bound, hour after
| hour, to the tales of this traveller.
Clara's walks with the children became
extended: but instead of Phil, Gerald Ma
son was her companion. Phil joined them
at first, but presently staid behind. he
had grown little tired of hearing about
| foreign lands, and preferred the more do
mestic felicity of wandering off by himself
where he could weave undisturbed those
fanciful dreams of the future, which now
seemed so much nearer realization. For
since the father of the orphans had come
home. and the son of the widow, he was
their natural protector, and they would no
| longer need the care or protection of Clara.
Phil had great reverence and respect for
this fine. sun-imbrowned. hardy man. He
would. of course, recognize PhiGs claim
upon his young relative, and relieve her OF
her present duties.
After months of impatient waiting, Phil
was compelled to make an opportunity to
speak.
Almost a score of wears ago, and yet
how clearly that evening in March stands
ont i'm the retrospect, There had been a
softness and languor in the air all day, an
underlined promise of spring, to which ma
ture gladly responded. The frogs down
bv the little lake croaked in discordant
glee. Migratory birds screamed and
chuckled over Phil's head as he waited in
the underbrush for Clara to go by. She
had passed fully an hour before with Mr.
Mason and the children. The shadows be
gan to lengthen the sun went down, and
with it all promise of early warmth or yer.
dure. Phil stamped his feet, and wished
that s'ancient Mariner" as he was wont al
times to call him, would bring Clara and
the children home. A hoary old owl in
the tree above Phil found the darkness
gathering about the gnarled old branches,
and shook his wings briskly, prepara-
tory to flying off for his nightly dissipa-
ton. ~ ~
"Wait while" said Phil. glancing up
ward, land you'll hear something nice
old bird hold on a bit, till Clara comes
she is well worth waiting for and listen,
ing to-"
The owl suddenly burst into harsh
laugh; if was cold, sardonic. bitter.
It would have Jared upon Phil if ht
had not heard brushing in the path anC
tbe dead leaves scattered by children,
feet. A mans tread and the rustic o
4 f..I1 l.