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

A WINTERS TALE.
Csercombe on q sunny day Is one o
the pleassntest Of English watering
places all the year round. 1t has NJ
settled season, but is probably at it!
best in Winter, for there 1t is possible
even in December to catch q glimpse
of the sunshine and warmth of the
departed Summer that still clings
about the place. Even then, on the
pier and in the streets, people stroll
about in the desultory fashion ol
those who have taken q spell Of idle.
ness, and mean 10 enjoy It. 1t is diff.
cult to believe that daily work ol
regular occupation are ever undertRk.
en- there, for even the residents are in.
fected by the pervading spirit of indO-
lence, and are in the habit of going
cut at hours in the morning that
quite preclude the possibility Of set
Ting down to anything for the rest Of
| the day.
Such is its fine weather aspect, bat
on wet days it Is q wilderness, q deso-
lation streets and pier are alike de-
serted, left to the invaders, the wind
and rain, who take possession of it fol-
q while, until routed by the returning
sunshine, which is sure to eOms back
after q day or two. Sometimes on q
wet Winter day, when there is a
heavy gale blowing, a few OF the most
adventurous visitors defy both rain
and wind, and struggle on to the cliffs
to see the sea break against the neigh
| boring coast, and some have evident
ly done so this stormy Decem mbeT
morning, for two people are plodding
along under one umbrellas down the
road which leads into that quarter OF
CaercOmbe where all the lodging
| houses flourish.
The couple present q woefully be-
drsggled appearance; the girls water.
proof clings to her, heavy with the
wet dripping from 1t, lock Of bright
hair that has blown from under hel
hat hangs over her shoulder wet and
shining, and her boots are muddy tC
| her ankles. a Uretehed object one
might be tempted co cali her, but that
and that she laughs heartily as each
gust Of wind threatens to tear heI
away from her esmpaniOn's arm, 10
which she clings desperately, trying
to keep pace with his long strides.
HDo l walk tCO fast ?n he asks,
holding the um brella tight with both
hands In front of their faces, in hope
of sheltering her more from the rain.
"You do, rather" she says. "But
look, there are our lodgings just down
there, only 3 few steps more and
shall be at home. Oh, dear, what will
Uncle Tom say to my coming back
such fright ? he said it wasn't fiji
for me to go, but would"
She points to house q little further
down, and as sne does so the door
opens, and on the threshold they Can
see tall sOldierly-lOoking old gentle
man. He looks down the road first
toward the pier, and then, with 9
quick "right-about-face"s sort Of move
ment, veers round and looks In the
opposite direction. By this time the
umbrella has arrived in front o. the
door, and the girl, slipping from un-
der its shelter, runs up to him, cry
ing:
10, Uncle Tom, while 1 was on the
ClAll5 h1 was DlOHh
away into the sea, and this gentle
man, who was passing at the time,
kindly offered me his, and brought me
back. This is my uncle, Colonel
Hursley," she says to the owner ol
the umbrella, who, after raising his
hat, is about to go away. "Please
stop; I am sure he will wish to thank
you FOR taking such care Of me-"
After this speech Colonel Hursley
has no choice but to repeat his niece's
assertion courteously, but with a eer-
tain stiffness Of manner that is not
unnOticed by the young man.
SIT is nothing" he stRmmers 81
could do no less"
Then he remembers they have
walked home arm in arm all the way,
and as the young lady and himself
are strangers to each other, he feels
bound to proffer some explanation.
81 found her in the pelting rain, out
by the Cove, wet through, and as she
could not stand against the wind /
ventured to offer her my arm, and
bring her home"
al it hadn't been for him, Uncle
Tom, should have been there still, u
ShI6 A1A66 DCalOuf AAOln GACA 0eeAhA AZ
the hall, where she is taking off her
waterproof.
"Go up. stairs and change your
things,n says Colonel Hursley impera-
lively to his niece. "Go up stairs st
once 90 he repeats, as the girl tries to
slip past him to the door and, divin-
ing il is her Intention to shake hands
with the young man on the step, he
stands so that he blocks up the mar
row passage, and she has TO content
herself with friendly nod and smile
as che says "Good by; shan't for
get your kindness
Then she goes away as she is bid
den, Tut she stops on the landing, and
peeps through the bslusters at her un-
Gle and her new acquaintance. The
latter has come inside, and they are
talking quite amicably, and Miss
Phemie SeatOn INDUCES 10 q pleased
little laugh when she hears Colonel
Hursley say:
"You really must stay to luncheon,
| or shall think you owe me q grudge
for my ingratitude. 1 fear I treated
you with scant courtesy but l was
Mortified to see that child come home
with q stranger. 1t might have been
most awkward I; there is no knowing
who one may pick up at a place like
this. could not cell at glance who
you we're, could I, Mr. KennicOte ?"
! "Well, no 4; but bear no malice,
assure you. L shall be delighted to
accept both your offers" replied the
other.
Phemie waits to see him hang hi:
hat on peg in the hall, and then
flies to her own room to take of her
wet things. She jumps out OF one
dress into another 30 quickly that she
is down stairs again, dressed in all bel
best, looking as dry and neat and nat.
ty as il she had not been out in the
rain for q week, by the time that Mr..
Kennicote makes his appearance In
the dining-room, with the Colonel's
dress-boots on.
"Phemie, let me introduce Mr.
Kennicote 70 you he is the nephew
of brother-Offlcer Of mine long ago
when I was in the Rifles. Mr.. Ken.
nicote, Miss Seaton," Colonel Hursley
says, with the air Of one announcing
that the acquaintance began from tina
moment, ignoring the fact that thes'
two have met before.
They bow TO each other with moeE
gravity, and then sit down TO lunch
con, during which meal Christophe'
Kennieote wins golden opinions from
Colonel Hursley by the Difference witt
which he listens to his (the ColonePs