Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1877-06-29
STANTON, VIRGINIA, FRIDAY. JUNE %, 1877.

Fraulein replied by sounding each =
Listen, LOUISE" said Mary Cromiord
holding in her hand that mornings Ku
rier. This is what widower's life ha:
driven our opposite neighbor to:
'sGENUINE PROPOSITION MARRIAGE
"A widower, forty-five years Of age, doc
tor, possessing good house in an agreea.
bic village of Switzerland, desires to mar
ry maiden or widow lady Of suitable age.
The same must be of an amiable DISPOSE
ton, must have taste for housekeeping
and simplicity, and be willing to be a low
ing stepmother to his children, and to give
them a sound and religious education.
Fortune is less desired than good dispo-
sition. Genuine offers, with photograph
enclosed, (no notice will be taken Of anon
ymous answers may be sent in strict con-
fidence to s'Poste Restante"-
"Where do you think? Why, here in
Neuenthal. 1t is no one but our doctor.
Is this the way your German ideals N an
Rage matters 20
| But Fraulein did not seem to see the
| joke. She was fdgeting over the bread
and butter, and looked SO red when Mary
glanced up, laughing, for her answer, that
she checked the words: suppose we an
swer it," which were ready on her lips.
CHOW to my letters,'' said Mary. "Here
is one from Lizzie Arnold; one FROM
Here it was her turn to be confused, for
the second was from Mr.. Manton. She
supposed he had discovered her retreat,
and was pressing. in his determined way,
for an answer, and she had no answer
ready. But little was she prepared for the
real contents of his letter. Light and
shade crossed one another on her face !;
some CONSERVATION, much beWilderment,
dawning sense Of great relief, made con-
fusion n her mind.
"DEAR MADAM" said this strange low
er, "knowing that you had retired in order
| to form decision more freely, I would
have taken no steps to discover your re-
treat till 1t should De your own will to dis
close it, had 1 not been bound to do so by
singular and important discovery, of
which have fully informed your lawyers.
You will hear from them by the next post !;
but, for obvious reasons, have wished to
be the first to communicate to you the fact
that in the course of certain alterations in
Worthton Hall will of recent date has
been found, drawn up in full legal form by
my uncle himself. and witnessed by two
servants, who were not aware of the i'm
portance of the document. In this will
J your uncle be queathed all his property to
me-all but an annual income of three
Thousand pounds, which the will reserves
for you.
s'Your devoted servant,
81. MANToN.'
$50 that's all over, and am free again,
and we can go home Tomorrow" said
Mary, when she had read the letter twice,
feeling as lght-hearted as a bird.
The lawyers letter came in due course,
attesting the genuineness of the recent
will, and Mary began to think whether she
should at once return to England, or, as it
was the height of the summer, travel lit
tie first, now that one burden, at least, was
removed, which had made travelling and
all things else under the sun a WEAKNESS.
But, to her surprise, it was Fraulein who
now cast obstacles in the way. There was
this reason and that reason why they could
not possibly leave Neuenthal at once, and
when Mary overruled them all, poor Frau
lem waxed fearful and nervous, and had
headaches, till Mary, perceiving some mys-
FERROUS cause, promised to stay "a little
longer in the spot which she had almost
begun to hate as prison.
1t was very wearisome to her, however;
she was longing for home, and rock and
flood bore to her the aspect of iailers. She
had wandered alone one afternoon to the
edge of that chasm where we saw her first.
The new path was made; the workman
were all gone; there was silence but for
the voice Of the river. Fraulein was at
home with the headache. Again Mary
wore the same white dress in which her
graceful figure showed so well, and the soft
plaits of her brown hair were rich in
shadow under her simple hat. A young
pedestrian of the true British type, a sunny
haired ,frank~eyed mortal, who came swing
ing down the river side, thought that he
had never seen picture more pleasing Or
more welcome to his eyes. She did not
raise her head at his footstep, until he
stood close behind her, stopped, and said
softly:
s'Mary!''
She started and looked at him, tremb-
ling. In sense of loneliness, the tears
had been ready before, and now they came
! trimming over,
sOh Tom ~ she cried. "How-how-
| how could you ?"
| There was no one to see how he soothed
her, nor how glad he WAS to have her in his
arms at last, nor truth to telD how glad
she was to be there. But when the sur
prise and the crying were over, Mary felt
that she was forsaking all her principles,
and began to gather back some shadow of
reserve.
II was startled" she said. "You should
not have come like that I have given
you no reason"
ssLook here Mary" said Tom Derby, in
aightforward, manly way that there
was no withstanding. 81 want to know
| what it is that has come between us. L
knew letters would be Of no use, so came
to find you at the first moment 1 had my
holiday, just to ask that one question"
| She looked in his face and FLUSHED; she
was ashamed of her Wretched wisdom.
81 love you, and I do believe you love
me. and what binders US from being hap
py.'
| No answer.
81 have been thinking and thinking day