Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1878-01-04


ing her arms upon the desk, and her face
in her hands, and was weeping silently
She said to herself:
why should I care for Mrs. Pom
fret's unkindness? He has been heard
from. He is perhaps he has sent
a kind message to Cousin Rose. He
never was ashamed to own me, Heaven
bless him!"
The children were all to go to the
play. Poor Rose had dressed them and
they were gone to dessert. She was just
sitting down to her weak tea and toast
when Dahlia Domvile, the belle OF
Bloomsbury, came in
20 Rose" she cried, ''do help me with
these plaits and curls-I can't make
them feel safe-and then fix this wreath
for me, and [ am sure that great stupid
Ann has laced my dress awry-I feel
quite crooked"
Rose compiled hole had been miss
ed. While Rose set it right, Dahlia
said:
I've such news to tell you, Rose
Sir Henry Pomfret will be here to-mor-
row"
Rose, in her turn, missed hole She
turned pale and red, and for moment
felt very faint.
You could never guess what COUSIN
Henry is coming for" said Dahlia. ''To
take a wife back with him, and that
wife no less a person than the belle of
Bloomsbury"
But / thought" said Rose, that
you intended to marry Mr.. Phil. Floun-
der"
g | did, poor fellow; but l must bowl
him over. He can't make me my lady,
and Sir Henry can. But, oh, Rose,
called on Phil S mother to-day, on the
sly, and he has been called to the bar.
Called There's an honor! Think of
that! AS his very gifted mother says,
people are not called if they are not
wanted. | saw him in his new wig and
gown. He looked lovely. Sir Henry"
continued Dahlia, is an ugly old bore
compared to Phil, and when Phil. is
Lord Chancellor, his wife will be my la
dy' indeed. But | might have so long to
wait, and "a bird in the hand is worth
two in the bush. And, oh, Rose, Sir
Henry has sent such lovely set of
pearls and emeralds as wedding pres
ent for his bride elect. couldn't refuse
them, though l could him, and they
must 90 together, | suppose. How they
will set off my Lady Pomfret! All, you
handsome firt, you" she added, shaking
her curls, while addressing her own
blooming image in the toilet-glass; you
were born to be my lady'-you know
you were. How well the title suits my
style of beauty-now, doesn't it, Rose?
But isn't it pity Sir Henry Pomfret
hasn't Pills handsome face and fine
form, and Pills wit and genius, too?
Don't you think so, now?"
Rose did not-could not-speak.
Il say, Rose, are you ill?" said Dab
LA. 'How very pallid and bad you do
look"
"No, I'm not ii, thank you
20, perhaps it's only the contrast Of
my complexion and yours. That's not
my fault, nor yours, either. Here's Sir
Henry's letter to Mr.. Pomfret-do read
it, Rose"
Carriage at the door, miss, said Ann
at this moment.
Coming" cried Dahlia. Light me
down, Ann" and without evena Thank
you! or Goodnight! " she hurried
away.
Rose Moss did not even remark her
rudeness. Cousin Henry's letter was in
her cold, trembling hand-the letter in
which he offered himself to his lovely
cousin, the belle of Bloomsbury.
No wonder that he chooses Della"
she said to herself ''She is so hand
some
She glanced at herself in the mirror,
which reflected very slender form,
robed IN deep mourning; small, delicate
features, very pale complexion, dark
eyes full of tears, and a profusion of
glossy black hair, simply braided and
coiled round little Grecian head.
What a contrast to Delia's mass of gold
EN- hair and ringlets floating down her
back, her brilliant complexion, her scar
let lips and her torquoise eyes.
''How handsome she looked tonight,
in that green velvet and white satin,
with all that point lace, and those gems
setting off her white shoulders, fine bust
and lovely arms; but how will Cousin
Henry like such low dress and such
short sleeves? He used to be so very
fastidious, so particular Oh, that she
were worthier of him! Can she, the ad-
mired of all, ever love him as |, the
sighted of all, have loved-alas! weak,
wilful heart-do love him still?"
Poor Rose Moss sat down by her fru-
gal fire, poured out her weak tea, and
nerved herself to read Sir Henry's let
ter. 1t ran as follows:
DEAR BRoTHER:-I am on the way to your
hospitable abode; hope to dine with you on
New Years Day. Poor, dear old Culpepper
has left me his estate in Cornwall, and flO,0O0
in the funds The house and grounds are let
at three hundred per annum for the next ff-
teen years. can now pay all my old torment
ing debts. l am sick to death of my lonely
marry. Now, there is no one here at all to my
fastidiOus taste, and my hopes center in n GER
tain lovely cousin and belle of Bloomsbury,
who will not, ! think, say NO to Cousin Hen
had no idea I could ever pay my debts. or
make a settlement on my wife, and only fan
cy she rather likes me- Perhaps your kind
and proposal, for have but a week to stay in
town.
Don't forget that can now "make my Jean
lada,' as Falconbridge says. l was half in
love with my pretty cousin when I left Eng
land, but thought it best not only to ascer-
tain what the climate and mode of life here
were but to pay off my old Oxford and London
debts, and secure some little capital before
asking her to leave your home. find no fault
with the climate, and l like the place, and, as
said before, dear old Culpepper has made me
rich l am compelled to give grand dinners
here; "but what's n table richly spread with
out woman at its headY' can bear my sOli-
tude no longer: so, if all goes well, you will
see me tomorrow. am now Mt southampton,
after six weeks at sea. Some months ago
sent over some fine pearls and emeralds to be
set by Garratt They are to be a wedding pres
ent to my bride elect. Garrett Is to set them
and send them to your Office on New Years
Eve. Take charge of them till arrive.
have no time to say n word, except love to all
Your very affectionate brother,
HENRY PoMFRET.
The cold, weak tea remained untasted
so did the dry toast. The frugal fire
went out, and still Rose Moss sat cold
and sick at heart, weeping silently. AT
half past twelve the sound of carriage
wheels and a laundering knock at the
door announced the return of the play
goers.
Rose caught up the letter which had
fallen at her feet, hurried into her bed
room, locked the door and threw herself
on her hard, curtainless bed. Presently
the nursery-maid tapped lightly at the
door.
please miss, missus says will yor
give the children their supper, and plai,
and curl their hairs, as Sir Henry i.
coming tomorrow, and they must bt
done. though they are ever so cross anC