The anti-monopolist. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1874-1878, 1875-11-08
The .Anti-MonopoliSt.

aeels and galloped through the water, send
ing it splashing, flying and sparkling in
every direction.
l smiled up in uncles face, and we went
back into the house together, the pretty OF
place standing in its beautiful garden, with t
the busy water mill and the wooden bridge
about fifty yards away, while the bright lit
tie river ran noisily along its bed, after
turning the great splashing wheel; and all
round the great high Derbyshire hills shut
us in from every blast
Don't be in hurry. my child uncle
said seriously, as he kissed my forehead
And now for business-Why, hallo!' he
said, tapping the barometer, how the glass
is going down. Rain, my dear, and lots Of
it, before long. We'll, the rivers very low
He went out then, and tried to be busy
over the household affairs, but somehow
couldn't keep my thoughts off my uncle's
words; and when once l caught glimpse
of myself in the glass, it was to see that my |
cheeks were red as fire.
At last was sitting in the parlor, work
ing by the open window, feeling more at
peace, when heard footsteps which set my
heart to beating furiously, and a minute at
ter there was tap at the door, and John
Fleming came in, after our homely, neigh
borly style.
..Ah, Miss Wilmot,' he said; five just
come back from the town. l thought Mr..
Wilmot would like to see the paper. Isn't
he here?'
Now, as John Fleming stood there,
flushed with exercise a fine. handsome, tall
fellow of -and-twenty, I couldn't help
thinking what picture he made of health
and strength My heart was beating fast,
for knew he protested to love me, and IN
nv glrlish wa, was attracted to him, he
was SO attentive, so fond of waylaying me.
and SO tender and respectful in his ways;
but fresh from my conversation with uncle
| then, could not help feeling that it was
an underhand way of coming to see me, to
drop IN with such an excuse, when he per-
fectly we'll knew that uncle was in the mill.
as he always was at that time of the day.
| ..Uncle is in the MILL said; and meant
/ to speak coldly, but somehow the words
would not sound as | meant them to sound,
and the next minute he had drawn a chair
to my side and was talking to me as he had
| never spoken before. He was calling me
Nelly and praising my beauty; telling me
he loved me with all his heart, and that II
refused him he should never be happy again.
And all the time his handsome face was
bending over me- and when dared to peer
up in his eyes they were looking so earn
estly into mine that grew huttered and
trembled When l tried to speak my voice
was all of shake, and l kept on thinking
as he spoke Of what happiness 1t would be
TO have him loving me through life as he
said he would; and I'm afraid that my face
betrayed this, for he kept on talking more
earnestly each minute.
And still through all came dear uncle's
. words-'don't be In a hurry and when;
asked myself did love this man, the an
swer came; and felt that should like te
, run away, and cry all by myself, but he
tightly held my hand
You know l love you, Nelly he whis-
0 pered in deep, earnest tones, aud he trlee
10 take nv other hand, which l was draw
ing away, when heard voices coming, ane
| heaved sigh of relief as John Fleming
e started ny, looked through the window, ans
then gave his foot stamp OF vexation.
Here's that lout Murray" he exclaimed
Il and he snatched up the paper he had lie
: fall, and stood in the middle of the room a
uncle came in, closely followed by Olive
q Murray, who gave a start as he saw Elem
y ing, and then his frank, honest fac
}. twitched and saw cold, gray shado'
% cross it. and knew that he was sufferin
intense pain.
= All, Fleming said uncle, quietly. 'yo
here.'
Yes. Mr.. Wilmot,' said Fleming, smiling
: I've brought you over the paper. that
# adjust off Good morning. Good morn
- ing. Miss Wilmot,' he said, pressing m
d hand.
Good morning, and thank you, my lad
I said uncle, quietly, his eyes fixed on N
20 the while; and then, with a short nod I
I Oliver Murray, John Fleming went on
n while our other visitor crossed to me an
10 shook hands in q quiet, grave way. and
l. could see now the pain had caused shii
re ing out of his soft, gray earnest eyes; IL
i. had not this man. with all the tract of
al gentleman, told my uncle that he loved M
m though, save in his grave, gentle wa.
-, and little kindnesess, he had never show
or it to me.
could not help comparing the two ms
,st the one tall, handsome, and dssiinynt: Il
10 other broad shouldered and plain-as | 50
a few words Instantly in reply to his e
auirles; and saw his lip culver as l. re-
ms MIN through and through, as girl m
go read any true. frank man. aud he was sa
NO ing TO himself. God bless her. may she
me happy with him And then. in spite
Hs nv outer GOODNESS, the throbbing OF r
10 heart b gan again. as l could not be
thinking how true and earnest and tend
or: was This grave, grey eyed man towards I
woman who he felt was gone from him i
,ur ever; and my heart seemed to swell with
great pity for one who could be such
;. gentleman al heart.
he i think you're right, Murray said U
ok Gle, tapping the glass again She's &c
nat d ,wn again in the last hour or two, wond
I'd. fal.'
/ could hear the distant thunder q.
his came across said Oliver: gazing at me
while; they're having heavy storm on
ow hills, and l thought I'd come and wa
rks you-'
.Thanky, my lad. thanky.' said uns
aid Murray viii have a Bit of dinner with
Oh, Nelly-but hang il, man, what's the matt
you look like somebody else You "
ne as CHEEKY as . cricket as we came
/. if / dared hardly glance at him, but
led and / saw the grave panied eyes wan'
. TO from me to uncie and back again, and tn