Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1877-01-31

ing up the chimney. As it fizzled up.
the thought of her anger came over
me. l knew not what did: but. ut
l;teringa wild cry of fear, Iirushed to
the nearest. door, and it was the best
parlor. The next thing remember
is crouching behind the gentleman
who had started up and stood in the
door, as Mrs. Williams came forward
with two knives, which had been ly-
ing on the window sill, in her hand.
pooh! never mind the splitting, of
the SOUP" said ne, understanding at
once what l had done, which, indeed,
was easily seen. "You would not be
angry with the child for that; she
could not help it, | dare say. / can
dine without it. You don't know me.
Mrs. Williams" he continued, COM
ing a step nearer where she stood,
looking at me with "A deadly glitter in
her eyes. q s9V9e lua Bf-t1-t (
,.u" Don't I?'' said she. l think she
was trying which one of the knives
was the sharpest. ..3
Well" said the gentleman, "you
may. know me to be Edward Win
stanely, but you don't know that
married your daughter, and brought
her home a lady. l never meant to
act the villain with her. We were
privately married, but while the old
gentleman lived it had to be kept Sc
eret, and we knew you would not keep
it. This is why come to-day to sur
prise you; but you will come to Win
stanely Park to give us your bles sing
you are not going to fainty' adJ
She had staggered back against the
wall, her white lips set, and her eyes
growing CLASSY. He and /, and half a
dozen of the servants whom my
scream brought in, she pushed away,
and, with desperate effort, darted
upstairs, and we heard her lock her
self in her own room. The whole
house was terribly frightened. What
Mr.. Winstanely thought, i do not
know, but he asked me no questions
and never seemed to suspect anything
about the spilled soup. We all went
about our business. for work never
Stacked in that Eouse on any account,
and the evenings coach was expected.
Just before it came, Mrs. Williams
bell rang, and the house-maid said she
wanted me. When l came into the
room she was sitting at the desk look
ing like herself again, but her face
was still white, and she had her long
knitted purse, full of guineas, in her
hand. Atf.U,ff3
Mary" said she, "you are a good
girl-take this and go home-Pll take
care that you get no blame" ,u {
,i II want no money, madam" said l,
,''but I'll go home, if you will let me,
and never say a word, except to my
father and mother" ,'...,
She held out the purse once more
and then pointed to the door, but could
say nothing; it must have been a hard
pull for her proud spirit. | got out of
the room as quick as | could, threw
on my hat and cloak, and got into the
coach as soon as it came up, leaving
trunk and all behind me.
My father and mother were nightly
surprised when it set me down at their
door in Chatford just as the clock
struck twelve; they were still more
astonished when told them what had
brought me home. My father first
called me brave, good girl, and then
advised me not to be proud about it,,
because it was the work of Providence,
and we were bound on all hands to
keep such story quiet about Farmer
Dickson's relation. The story was
kept between me and them; but my
homecoming got wind, and Farmer
Dickson came in a great hurry to
know why Mary had left her good sit
uation. My mother would not have
reflections cast on her child, so she
told him in the parlor, and what she
said l don't know, because the door
was fast shut; but he came out rub
bling his hands and clapped me on the
back, saving: "You are fine girl.
Mary, and if Harry don't finish that
business, I'll make you to be Mrs.
Dickson myself.
1 think i, have not much more to
tell. Harry did finish the business.
There were some people in our vii
lage that never got over the wonder
of it; but am proud to say the Dick
son family did not lose by me, for ten
years after, Mrs. Williams died in her
inn, and left the property in equal
shares between me and her daughter,
Lady Winstaneley. She had never
gone to the park but once, and then
she would neither eat, drink nor sleep
in the house, but saw her daughter and
her grandson, now heir to the estate,
and then went straight back to the
Golden Sheaf. She never took another
girl to stay with her, and what she
said about my leaving never heard.
A.. Il lnlIi