Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1877-12-07

help now.
Yes but you know Deborah is not
overburdened with wits, and moth
er doesn't like teaching. She'd al
ways rather do thing herself. Fa-
tner, be sure to send for me- if she
seems to want me back.
10 be sure child; but Won know
you're only going for few months.
There's Bobby, too. l don't know
how he'll get on with his lessons
without me.
Make your mind easy, Ettie, Bob
by shah't suffer. But, child, while
you have been wondering how We
can ever get or without you, | have
been wondering whether you will be
able to take care of yourself. You
can't help knowing, suppose, that
you have very pretty face of your
own. You'll find plenty OF people
where you are going ready enough
to praise it even more than it de-
serves. You must take compliments
Just at what they are worth, my
dear. Remember, "Handsome is as
handsome does"
Father, said Henrietta with a
slight pOut, you need not fear a bit
about my head being turned with
compliments; you know it's not my
way.
Don't be too sure-'Fore warned
is forearmed.' One of these DAYS,
however, | shall hope to see you the
happy wife of good man.
Pm sure you would be very sorry
to be rid of me; father, if that time
came. But Pm not one of those
girls who are anxious about being
married. In fact, l believe, if folks
would only think it, they're general
ly uetter off single. You know how
| refused Squire Hassall. To be
sure l couldn't abide the man!
Your mother and l got on pretty
well together, | think, said the par
son, smiling.
Yes, sir; but you are among the
exceptions, answered Henrietta
gravely. And you must own, daddy,
that you and mother are often sorely
puzzled to make all ends meet. But
| was especially thinking, she con-
tinued after pause, of poor Cousin
Anne, whose husband can't say BOP
to a goose. I'd be ashamed to 90
about with such a stupid man! 1t
wouldn't be in my nature to put up
with it.
My dear, said her father laugh
ing, you must learn to bear and for
bear if you marry. But I'm sure 1
don't wish to persuade you to marry.
Henrietta Millechamp is a very
good name, father, and I've no wish
whatever to change it. Grandmoth-
er says Pm the most sensible girl she
knows.
Pm very glad to hear it, child;
and Pm sure neither your mother
nor l want to part with our spoiled
little lass; now she's grown up to be
SO sensible and helpful.
By this time they had emerged
from the old road, and were trotting
along a newer and more open one.
The heat, for it was now u o'clock,
was intense; and ere very long the
parson pufed up under a clump of
trees which stood in a bend of the
road.
Now it happened that in the field
before them, only separated from
this road by a sunk fence, there was
a cricket match going on. Parsou
Millechamp alighted from his horse,
and stood for some minutes by his
daughters side while they watched
the players. Both were evidently
connOisseurs, and entered at once in
to the game while they chatted gaily
together. Two young men, who had
their innings, were lying on the
grass not far from them; and while
the travellers watched the match,
these young men watched them.
The young men gave an approx
ing nod to each other, but gaztd
with even more complacency on the
fair maiden on the pillion. Ettie
was her fathers own child-like
him in the graceful figure, abundant
dark hair, and gray eyes, which soft.
ened and frightened as she spoke.
Her rounded cheeks were flushed
with the heat, but very becomingly.
She wore a blue pelisse, and wide
hat with ribbons of the same color.
Altogether she made very pretty
picture.
Let us go and speak to them, Tom,
said the taller of the two; and to-
gether they sauntered up.
You take an interest in our game,
sir, said Oliver, while Tom bowed to
the young lady.
| do, young sir, replied the parson,
for | am cricketer myself. But to
say the truth, it was the heat, not
the game which caused us to stop
for awhile.
Have you been riding far, sir?
asked the one called Tom, coming
nearer and pattlng the horse.
Nine miles, friend, answered the
father.
And six more to go, chimed in the
daughter. If the remainder of the
road is as open as the last mile, we
may get sunstroke before we reach
Powyscourt.
Powyscourt! repeated Oliver. If
you are going thither, you should
take the first turn to the right, in-
stead of Keeping the high road. You
will get into the lanes, and save
good mile. But are you aware, sir,
that the earl Is absent?
Ny business, said the confding
parson, is with her ladyship, who has
kindly offered to take my daughter
as companion. She will further
trouble herself to have her instruct
ed on the harpsicord, and to teach
her how ladies should comfort them
selves.
| am sure she can net need IN
struction on the latter point, SAID
Tom fervently.
| have been warning her against
iattering tongues, sir, said the par
son, with a smile aud at the same
L