Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1875-10-14

rejoined. "Go about your business, Jane.''
"His daughter, indeed" 1 muttered to my
self. "Any one would suppose him to be as
old as Methusaleh. And papa spoke of him
in the same way, too. But don't think this
wife ofhis could have died recently. No doubt
she only lived for short time after their mar
riage; and probably he married very young
twelve or fifteen years ago."
leaned my elbows on the dressing-table,
and with the picture open before me, compar'
ed it with the reflection of my own face in the
glass.
"As different as possible" was my COM
ment. "Of course, if this is the style he ad:
mires, he could not think me pretty in the
least. Yellow hair-blue eyes-pink cheeks
no curls and no dimples. Heigh-ho! | al
ways did wish had dark hair"
felt an indescribable reluctance to show.
ing the picture to my father, and listening to
any farther comments on it; but it was nec'
essary that steps should be taken for its resto'
ration to its rightful owner, so down stairs
took it accordingly.
Papa, here's picture Jane found in Dr.
Wardlaws room," said I, placing it in his
hands. 81 suppose be left it by mistake"
"A picture, eh ?" said papa, adjusting his
eye.glass to inepect it. "A miniature like
ness, of course All! very pretty face-re'
markably pretty. Don't you think SOP"
Extremely pretty" said /, briefly.
"Perhaps it is our friends lady-love," sug'
gested papa. Though I own 1 should not
have suspected him to be victim Of the ten
der rpasson."
Il thought it might be his wife" said I.
My father looked surprised, "His wife!'
he repeated. II did not know he was mar
ried man."
II did not mean that his wife was living
now" explained. Il thought he might be a
widower fancied, from something that be
said one day, that he had been married. OF
course, though, I do not know anything about
it. You'll send this after him, won't you
papa7"
"Certainly; shall send it to his address
he leftit here, somewhere, written on an en-.
velope-Oh! here it is, in my portfolio. You
can write neat label for me, Rosy, and |
will put up the package at once, and let james
take it to the post-oAice."
"I'll copy it upstairs" said l., carrying it
off to my own room. My father called to me
to say that there was plenty of paper and
pens down there; but it did not suit me to heed
him. had reasons of my own for taking it
to copy in private I wrote the address, in
my very best hand, on piece of paper, as
had been desired; then slipped the original into
my desk. As had foreseen, no inquiry was
made regarding it. 1t was an easy enough
address to remember, and papa, having des-
patched the little package, gave himself no
farther trouble about the matter.
"Dr. Arthur Wardlaw, Union G. H.,
Union Dist, S. c." There was certainly
nothing talismanic in these few words; but no
talisman could have been more carefully
guarded than I guarded the empty envelope
on which they were written. [ admired the
bold, firm handwriting, free from the affecta'
ton of single flourish, and thought it was
characteristic of the writer. In fact i thought
great many things about it that were very
silly-at least l suppose they would seem so
to me now. But, silly or not, the envelope
was kept-and what is more, have it to
this day; for found it not long ago, in turn
ing over the contents of an old portfolio, and
had not the heart to destroy it, thinking Of
these romantic fancies of my girlhood which
we're woven around it.
The picture was sent, but we heard nothing
of it for some time; for DR.. Wardlaw, it
seems, did not 60 directly home from our
place. At last, however, came note from
him-very courteous, but very brief-in &C.
Acknowledgement of its receipt.
"DEAR S1R:-On my return home last evening
my housekeeper delivered me the package Kind
! ly forwarded by you, containing picture accl-
thanks for your attention.
NV health is quite restored, though am feel
ing little fatigued this morning from the effects
of nv Journey. trust you and your daughter
|
latter; and with the assurance of my warm friend,
ship and esteem, and grateful remembrance OF
your past Kindness, remain, dear sir,
Very truly yours,
ARTHUR WARDLAw."
was absurdly disappointed at the absence
of any special message to me. did not care
about his sincere regards, so formally sent
without any allusion, however trivial, to the so.
cial intercourse between u.s. AS if the writer
fatigued from travelling, and with, no doubt,
important matters to engross his thoughts,
could spare the time to invent messages to
such an unimportant parsonage as myself.
Perhaps, l thought, he would write again
some day, when he was more at his ease and
leisure; and I kept lookiny anxiously for the
mailbag every morning, and watching papa
from my post of observation, behind the tea
urn, as he received his letters and examined
their contents. But no letter came, or any
farther sign that he cherished remembrance
of the intimacy which had been established
between us, during his sojourn at our house
or that he contemplated any renewal of it in
the future; and pondered, sadly enough, on
the mutabiity of all things human, and took
to reading woful romances to beguile the time
That was long, dull summer-the dullest
I ever remembered in my life. Papa noticed
my istlessness, and commented on it some
times, asking me if anything was wrong; but
1 always had an excuse ready, in the heat, OF
headache. or some other passing cause. |
was so unlike my old self, however, that at
last he made up his mind that something