Ellsworth American., 1876-11-30

uoEil, WI tdpitto'i NWltu soiut new ttti- .
ing) turned round and seemed to grow |
fond of this heir presumptive-as they |
called him. But we didn't, and there was
a conviction among us that whenever he |
came to Wesmede it was because he either |
wanted money in a hurry, or had nowhere |
else to go.
For years after the little heir was born,
Captain Warder didn't come to Wesmede |
at all. He might have been too angry, or
he might have been really abroad as 1t was
reported. But gradually his visits were
resumed, and then, year by year, they
grew longer and more frequent.
At Wesmede everything went smoothly
and happily Tor the Squire through his
sons boyhood; for though of course Mr.. |
Will got into trouble sometimes, ,as school
boys will, the trouble never lasted; for the |
boy was geBtle and true.hearted, even II
he had share of his fathers self-will. So
the time went on until within a few days
OF Mr.. Wills leaving college. when he was
V come home for few weeks, then join a
party of friends. and travel f1r a year, be-
fore settling at Wesmede and taking the
SquiTe's duties upon himself just as we
were dreading lest Mr.. Capleton should
fret through his sons long absence. a dis
tant connection of his died, leaving All on
ly daughter unprovii led for SO the Squire
when he heard this. went of at once to
Scotland, and brought back the orphan
girl with him.
Her portrait here? or course It is, for
she was one of the Capletons. you know.
though she was so poor that I've seen her
turn the bows of ribbon on her dress. and
patch the pages of her music. Beautiful: |
! don't know. because I've heard so many
different faces called beautiful. At first !
the servants called her "puny;" then no
ticcd that the maids grew to initiate her,
aud dropped their voices when they spoke
OF her. As for me. from the very first mo-
ment that my eyes rested on her. saw
what won my heart. Her face was mar
roT and delicate, yet there was sweet
aud steadfast light upon il which made II
beautiful beyond what | had ever before
understood of the word.
How we'll remember the day Mr.. Will
came home from college aud found her
standing shyly at his fathers side waiting
for him. such glance came into his eyes
that. though I'd known them ali his life,
felt Ia never seen them properly till then.
OF course could only guess how he spent
that evening, the first through which he
ever had girl companion AT home; but
before 3 week had passed had seen what
made me sad enough.
at Agnes does her duty, WILL" heard
the Squire say one morning, wAile Mr.
Will stood against the low oak chimney
piece in the hall. with his face bent, i
shall give her a wedding portion, and mar
rs her TO Warder. | shall be doing both
me. win. Lu1leigh tells me his daughter
returns from Paris next year, to take her
place at the head of his house
No answer from Mr.. VIII, but the Squire
didn't notice ii, and went on in i pleas ant
satisfied tone.
I've never kept you in the dark as 10 my
intentions, viii, have |: You've always
beea fully aware OF the good fortune in
store for YOU. LuXleigh's estate and Lux
le.h's daughter 20 together. and the prize
is To be yours on your return; always sup
posing, VIII. that you act your part like a
gentleman and "A lover
And ii don't:'
The Squire's laugh rang out with mer-
riment which hal not a grain of suspicion
in II. If you lose your reason during the
next year-put 1t that way. Will When
Mr.. Will looked up, was passing him In
leaving the hall, and remember wonder
ing how 1t was the Squire could be so un-
susp-cting. When | reached my own room
still thinking over that expression on my
young masters face. found Miss Agnes
standing at he window, looking out into
the park as she waited for me. When we
had held our usual morning discussion, she
turned TO the window again before leaving
the room.
II you are looking for Mr.. VIII, Miss
Agnes said |. standing with NV back 10
her, and speaking easily whst,with my old
fashioned notions, | fancied ii would be
wise TO say. he's in the hall. The master
has been talking TO him OF his wedding with
Miss Luxleigh. was re-arranging the
curtains, and the master told NE not TO go,
so heard th0m.'
She was facing me now, innocently and
wstfully meeting my eyes, so my next
words almost choked me.
For years this has been an understood
thing, Slss Agnes-dId you never hear Ii!
You see the Luxeigh property touches
Wesmede north, south, and east. or course
il will be 4 wise marriage
She was looking at me still and the gem
tie smile upon her lips; but oh, the white
ness OF her face,
4 dare say, Miss Agnes said, bending
over my fire, that you had never even
heard OF it,
'Not-yet.'
When she went away from the room so
quietly OF course wished hadn't said
word but still I'd done it with the fancy
that il might be kinder to do it at once.
Somehow il never seemed to enter the
Squire's mead that there could be danger
to his plans in the close intimacy between
his son and Miss Agnes or in the charm to
Mr.. Will of such a sweet girl-companion in
the home in which he'd never known
mother or a sister. As tor Mr.. WILL don't
think he ever even tried TO feel that Miss
Agnes was like sister to him, for from the
first he had loved her as brothers don't
love; and-yes, after all these years | can
say il as confidently as | said il then
Irmly as Mr.. Capleton's heart was set up
on that projected marriage for his son, ev-
erything would have ended happily tor
Agnes and Mr.. Will, if 1t had not been for
Captain Warder. No; even yet cannot
tell how but feel as sure of il as am that
that's the wind. sobbing on its way across
the heath.
When the day came for Mr.. viii to
leave home, no one saw his parting with
Miss Agnes, but two hours alter | had
watched the carriage out Of sight, found
her standing at the window with her eyes
fixed on the spot where it had disappeared
and though they were filled with tears,
never saw that trustful look upon her face
so trustful as it was at that minute.
| think that Miss Agnes had made de,
termination that. as far as she possibly
could, she would be both son and daugh-
ter to Mr.. Capleton in his sons absence;
and it was prettier than a picture to see
tDetu lOSelucE-diWdys eSciucl' oHc
would walk with him round the estate, dis
cusslng alterations and improvements just
as his son would have done; his arm in
hers aud always the brightest interest in
| her face. She would drive him for hours
| among his tenants, remembering every
thing for him. and doing as much. in her
gentle quiet way to wln their hearts as he
could do with all his welth and power.
| She would ride beside him into Exeter on
| his weekly visits, and the two horses, by
torce of habit, kept So closely together that
| il became a pr0verb there. She would go
with him To the heavy country dinners,
leaning OH his arm as his own daughter
would have done, and 50 grateful to him
for her plain white dress (and making so
much of it in her pleasant way that often
when I've watched them off my eyes have
beer too full to meet hers--the idea OF it!
Tears. because she loved the old man so
well.
But best of all was il to see them tOgeth
| er through those long Winter evenings at