Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1875-03-19
[ConclNdsf Arum first page

y
upon me. Good night"
He went out quite abruptly, without
kissing her, leaving her alone with her
aching heart. -,
Tuesday afternoon, and the ice and the
snow on the ground still. We were to
dine at five-off the London Goldfish and
prime turkey--and the Conveys were COM
ing in as we'll as the rectory people.
But Mrs. Coney did not come only old
Coney and Tom and the Tanertons drove
up on the stroke Of FIVE. As l helped
Grace down--muffied up in furs, for the
cold was enough to freeze an Icelander's
nose off told her her aunt was not we'll
enough to come.
Aunt Coney not we'll enough to come y
returned Grace. "What a pity! Have
time to run in and see her before dinner,
johnny 6. ..-... go.
That you've not You are late, as it
is. The Squire has been telling us that
the Goldfish must be in rags already"
Grace laughed as she ran in; her hus.
band followed her, unwinding the folds OF
his white wooden comforter. There was
general greeting and much laughter.
The Goldfish came up all right, and the
oyster sauce was in Molly's best style.
The turkey was fine the plum-pudding bet
ter than good, and altogether we had
downright merry dinner. Not Il sober
face among us, save Herbert Tanerton's;
as to his-well you might have thought he
was perpetually saying. For what we
are going to receive" 1t had struck
eight ever so long ago when the last nut
was eaten.
will you run over with me to my
aunt's Johnny?" whispered Grace as she
passed my chair. 81 should like to 90 at
once.n
She put her wraps on, and we went
trudging across the road in the moonlight,
over the crunching snow. Grace's foot
went into soft rut. and she gave squeal.
II shall have to borrow shoe while this
dries" said she, as she went in.
l was rushing back through our own
gate, when some tall fellow glided out of
the laurels, and put his hand on my arms:
The moonlight fell full upon his face and
its mass of reddish beard-and. to my in
tense surprise, recognized Benjamin Ry-
mer.
II beg your pardon he said. ut is.
as am well aware, very unusual and
unceremonious way of accosting you, or
any one else, but want particularly to
speak with you in private, Mr.. Ludlow"
"It was you who were here on Sunday
night" .. -. .o,,,.. ~, ,,s roc, =,
them 90 out to church, but / did not see
you go, and l was trying to ascertain
whether you were at home and alone. d"
Tom Coney's coming in startled me
away $685.
We had been speaking in a low key,
but Ben Rymer dropped his to lower, as
he explained. When he went away ten
months before it was in fear and dread
that the truth of the escapade he had been
guilty of in regard to the bank note was
coming out to the world, and that he
might be called upon to answer for it, His
mother had since assured him he had moth
ing to fear, but Ben was evidently q eau
tious man. and preferred 10 ascertain that
fact before showing himself openly at
Timberdale. knowing was to be trusted
not to injure fellow, Gas he was pleased
to say.) he had come down here to ask my
opinion as to whether the Squire would
harm him or not. There was no one else
to fear, now jeff was dead.
Harm your' I exclaimed: "why the
Squire would be the very one to hold you
free from harm, Mr.. Rymer. remember
his saying at the time, Heaven forbid that
he, having sons of his own, should put a
stumbling block in your path, when you
are intending to turn over new leaf. He
win help you on instead of harming you. y
1T is very good of him." said Ben. Il
was an awful fool, and nothing else. II
was the only dangerous thing | ever did,
and have been punished severely for it.
1t was nothing but the fear and remorse it
brought, that induced me to pull up, and
throw i'll ways behind me-
Something in Ben's tone seemed to i'm
ply that the bad ways were thrown behind
for good. "Are you thinking of coming
back to Timberdale e.
Not until shall have passed for sur
geon-that will not be long now. l have
been with a surgeon in London, as assist
ant, since ! left here. 1t was letter from
Margaret that induced me TO come down.
She--do you know anything about her,
Mr.. Johnny9'
~ know that parson we have at Tim
berdale as curate wants her to 60 out with
him to the Bahamas and that the pills
and powders stand in the way Of it..
.sJust SO. Is he good fellow, this par
son ?"
GOOD inside Not much to look at
Maggie shall go with him, then.
should be the last to stand willingly in her
way. i Oh see, nave not known WEelntr
it was safe for me at Timberdale; or
should never have left Maggie to the shop
aIone Does any one know of the past
my past beside you and the Squire ?'
"Yes, Herbert Tanerton knows Of it;
and--and the curate, Mr.. Sale" And
told him what had passed only on the pre-
vioas day. Ben's mouth fell as he lis
tened.
1T is another modification for me-" he
said. II should like to have stood as well
as might be with Margaret's husband.
Perhaps, knowing this, he will not think
any more OF her. -.
II don't believe he will let it make any
difference. don't think he is the man to
let it. Perhaps-if you were to 90 to him
and show him how straight thing, are
with you now--and--"@
broke down in my .hesitatng sugges-
ton. Ben was years older than l. miles
taller and broader, and it sounded like the
mouse attempting to help the lion.
Eyes, viii 60 to him." he said slow
". ut is the only plan. And-and you
think there's no fear OF He'd bert Taner-