The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1877-03-22

J half-dOZen letters, and she turn
; them over hastily once, and tn
: more slowly a second time, as II Sd
: doubted the evidence Of her own eyes
= The happy look died cut OF her fac,
giving place to one Of bswildeTmen
and bitter disappointment. Tner,
: was no letter either for her or for be
J father from Christopher Kennicote
! and Phemie, turned away, leavinl
, the others behind her, with a miser
J able sensation OF sOrroTful surpri-e
and went up stairs u her her owl
room. Jenifer met her on the stairs
and was struck with the change ii
. Phemie's manner; aud remember
ing her anxiety about the letters this
morning, guessed that the one shl
wanted mcst had not come, and ven
tured on little bit OF consolation.
MAYBE, dearie, the trains, are late
and some CT the letters won't be her
till tomorrow"
Phemie cheered up at once.
"Jenifer, you are an angel" shi
cried you sensible old darling,
never thought of that"
50 Phemie clutehed at the hope held
out to her, and buoyed up by it gol
through the rest OF the day tolerabIy
eheerfully- She tried bravely tC
shake of her disappointment, and de.
voted herself to the entertainment OF
her fathers guest, the new Rector oil
/ Roseorla ChurehtOwn, who had come
to the place during his absence. He
was Mr.. Courtenay, q man OF about
tiye-and-thirty, in personal appear
ance tall aud dark, the grave inteilee-
tual face bespeaking the scholarly
/ bent Of the mind, even a. the ener-
| getic, decisive mauner which so rare
ly accompanies q taste for study told
OF the active temperament that made
him hard worker in his parish no
mere studious theologisn, devoted to
his books, defining points of faith,
while men outside his library walls
were living and dying in one gigantic
unbelief.
Such man was not likely to find
much OF cOngenial c0mpanionship in
the Squire, except from the fact of
his being a fellOw-man, to whom he
| could speak from the common ground
OF equal social position. This in it..
self was q sufficient indueement to
make Arthur COurtenay gladly ae-
cept the '5quire's offer Of hospitality,
and eat his Christmas dinner at ROs-
eorls. After his introduction to the
'Squire's daughter, whom he now
met for the first time, he saw no rea-
SON TO regret having done so, as
Phemie made a very charming hos.
tess, in spite OF her being 8 little
absent-minded at times, for which
she would apologize so penitently he
could not but forgive her, though he
found himself wondering more than
once what the cause of her preoeed-
patton might be.
Phemie on her part, scarcely gave
him q thought after he had gone, ex-
cept to reproaeh herself for want of
courtesy in allowing her attention to
wander off from what he was saying
to thoughts Of Christopher Kennicote,
and into vague surmises of what that
one was saying and doing just then
and how he was spending his Christ
mas.
The next morning Phemie came
down to breakfast hopeful, almost
certain she should find the hitherto
missing letter on her plate. But no
the pink hawthorn pattern trailed
over it, unhidden by the expected en-
Yelope; and Phemie took her
place behind the urn, and gave her
father his breakfast, much too miser-
able to eat any herself; and more
thsn one big tear fell into the teapot
and upon her untasted meal, which
the Squire was too busy with his
newspaper to notice, and soon able to
slip away to her own room where she
cried from sheer disappointment till
CHE could cry no more,
Day after day went by, and still
no letter came, and Phemie gave up
in despair, saying TO herself, as COM
fort, "He will come himself on New
Years Eve, and then all will be
right" but with q misgiving in her
heart that belied the hOpefulness of
her words.
"Phemie," said Mr.. Seston on the
morning of the 31st, "I want you
to drive into Lesion this afternoon
and fetch my new gun and the cart
ridges that are coming by the $50
train. Bullets promised to send
them, snd I can't 90 for them to-
day"
fOh, yes, papa, 1 should like to go
very much" Phemie cried, radiant
with smiles. What could be more
delightful &? Was not the $50 the
train that Christopher Kennicot must
arrive by? How pleased and sur
prised he would be to have her meet
him
sand by the way, child, II you see
anybody whom you could ask to din
ner, you might bring them back. It
is horribly dull these long evenings
indoors there is not even any hunt
ing with this frost, and it has killed
half the birds"
So saying, Mr.. Seaton took himself
off to the stables, leaving Phemie in q
state of great excitement and delight;
for had she not actually go5 an invi-
tation for Christopher Kennieote
that night? Anybody" her father
had said so she should fulfill his di-
rectiOns to the letter. This $50 train
was the only through express for the
day so he was sure to come by 1t.
And Just before it was due at Lsston
Station, Phemie drove up in the STAN
hope, managing the pair of chestnuts
she had driven all the way from
home with the dexterity Of skilled
hand. She gave the reius to old PEN
tire, the cOaehman, who sat beside
her, in case the horses should chance
to require 8 stronger hand, and
jumped down, helped by the station
master,
SIS the train likely to be late ?" she
asked.
'No, Miss Ssaton ; expect her to
be signaled In two minutes. This way,
II you please"
Phemie followed him, and paced up
and down the platform for q turn or
two, and presently in rushed the ex-
press. Her heart beat fast as she
watched the passengers get out. One,
two, three, four, she counted them.
Surely these were not all Yet it was
the average number at the little sta
tion. She watched them collecting
their luggage, and saw the train leave
again in q passion OF disbelieving
wrath.
Misgiving, doubt, fear-all were
merged into one woeful certainty.
christopher Kennicote had not come!
And sick at heart, her eyes blinded
with tears, she could scarcely keep
from falling. She made her way al
most mechanically back to the car
riage, got in, and drove home again
at a pace that filed Pentire's soul
with indignation, half for himself
and half for bis horses.
"What a lather they'll be ID, and a
nice gashly mess the 'stand-up'
(for so PentIre had christened the
stanhope) will be in for me to clean
up But women's all alike-it's the
pace they want must tear along, or
they don't think they're drivin' :"
So the old man grumOled to him.
self, not daring to demonstrate aloud
for it was well known at RoscOrla
that Miss Phemie, like her father,
had a will OF her own, which was best
left alone. But PentIre was mista-
ken. Phemie thought little OF the
horses, and less Of the pace, that
afternoon and it was only due to the
animals knowing their way home
that they ever got there-nOt to her
driving for Phemie took no heed OF
anything, and they had stood for full
q minute in front Of the entrance be-
fore she saw where she was. Her IA
ther came and lifted her down from
the high driving-seat, saying,
$50 you have brought no one back
to dinner, Phemie ?"
mNo,n she said bitterly, 81 saw no
one," and then frightened the Squire
out of his wits by falling back a dead