The Grange advance., 1874-12-22

ago it is, after a!lD you really seemed
incapable of evil, or even Of compre-
hending it. You trusted everybody
implicitly, because you yourself were
"An ASST roared Urquehart. "And
now listen.'
So, as the night fell, and '*the case.
ment slowly grew glimmering square,
in the blackness, Urquehart's tale was
told.
"Fourteen months ago was lodging |
for the summer in q farmhouse in a !
village, no matter where. The only
house there belonging to gentlefolks,
except the wretched old parsonage, Was
Squire Ringwood's. 1t was big, stu
pid-looking mansion, on hill, staring;
down ovcrbearingly at the poor little
tenements huddled together below,
and the burly Squire himself was for
all the world like his house, as he sat on
his tall horse and looked down pom.
pously over his vast waistcoat at a
frightened crew Of village children.
The Squire had an ugly, sickly wife
and daughter, and they had an humble
companion that was an angel of beauty.
fell in love with her at church. Oh.
the little church in the west countrie
hid in the bowery orchard hollow! Oh,
the sudden delicious gust that Uttered
the graves with blossoms !-your
mothers grave, Charley; has the dear
woman the violets planted there or
did they die like the faith and hope
she set in me! I fell in love with
Fanny Vale before knew her name;
learned that from the farmhouse
folks with whom I lodged. They told
me. moreover, that she was young
widow, and still in weeds when she
came to lodge very humbly in the vii
lage six months before; that the
Squire 'swife and daughter had taken
fancy to her, and had adopted her
into their family as kind Of reader
and useful companion Of all work. [
made her acquaintance by note which
I threw at her feet over hedge the
first time spicd her walking alone.
I need not swear to you that I
never had an evil wish or thought
about her. TO me woman was holy
thing. desecrated by no lowness of con-
dition, deserving Of any gentleman's
love and reverence, if endowed with
certain qualities. These qualities I now
took on trust, and, being enchanted by
her beauty, saw also the perfection Of
moral loveliness in her face. Such an
angelic face, Charley! There she sat
in the Squire's pew, beside her ugly
patronesses, with such intelligence in
her melancholy blue eye and fair half
moon Of brow, such breathing sensi-
bility in her silence; and when came to
know her, what sympathy in her
smile, what silken manners, SO soft, so
graceful, caressing, yet modest and full
Of suave dignity! She did not answer
my note but when went to the copse
behind Ringwood house, where I had
implored her to meet me, she was there.
She came, she said, only to beg me to
come and write no more. She was a
poor dependent, and the least suspicion
falling on her would cast her homeless
| and friendless on the world. Twill not
| dwell on this stale love story it was
perfectly commonplace Of its kind, ex-
cept that the dlpe was not for once
the humble beauty, but the gentleman
| from London. She consented to be my
lwife; and at the summer end, without
asking her single question as to
her past, without knowing
more of it than the farm folks
had volunteered to tell me the first
day saw her, I brought this girl to
London, and married her. That's what
came Of being too good for this world,
incapable of evil, or the comprehension
of it. I had written to tell my father
Of my intended marriage to Il, frankly
| confessed) perfectly obscure and pen
! niless young woman, that had of course
everything but position and wealth to
recommend her. Iwrote a respectful
letter which received back in blank
cover. Yet my heart yearned to the
cross-gained old man, and from the
glory and joy of my FOOLS paradise I
emerged voluntarily, before the honey
moon was over, to seek q reconciliation
with my father.
~When got to his dc or he drove me
away like beggar, like strange dog,
with his lifted stick, with his mouth full
of curses. That is the last ever saw
of him. He died six months after, i'm
placable.
j. II hurried back to town to be com.
forte1 by the angel in my house. I
returned sooner than 1 was looked for.
opeaed the door by 1atch-kev, and
went softly upstairs to surprise my
wife. It was about 2 in the after noon.
Our little drawing-room had folding
doors, which were now ajar. No one
was in the front room, but heard-I
heard my wife's voice in the other. I
heard her voice and a mans. had
but to step forward. and saw---''
1t was quite dark by this time, and
here the voice that had come out Of
Urquehart's black corner suddenly