The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1878-08-15
NY Miss Laura.

az skAA ~ p,
Then the sunbeams bright shall waken-".
= Croous tho darling, " Mamma's baby" -
* 81 -A"rqarvt Eyti"ae.
ss: :st. i; NY Miss Laura. ~ ~ j. T.
:, { 4; When twelve Yeas old my mothers
made me an orphan. Soor and
fricndless. Miss Laura De Neale found
me one day, crying bitterly, took COM
passion on me and brought me to her
home. Miss Lauras mother was an in
J valid and the care of tho house devolvcd
upon Miss Knox, the housekeeper.
l had been the.e year when the Rev.
Mr.. Walderon. the rector of St. Paul's, be-
came frequent visitor, aud at last Mis- )
Laura's accepted lover. He was not
handsome, but yet man Of splendid
presence; and. because Of his love for my
mistress, and for his commanding figure
and noble bearing, I came to look up ia
him with reverence, almost with worship.
Four years slipped by. One day
Miss Knox told me that Miss Laura's
cousin, Philip Lansing, had returned from
abroad. She also informed me that he
and Miss Laura had once been lovers :;
that he wanted her to run of, but she re-
fused. He was heir to a million, and
bound body and soul to his uncle. Miss
Laura was too poor to please the cd man
and having spirit Of her own she re-
fused to marry the nephew.
The weeks passed on. l began to no.
tice a change in Miss Laura. She had
not been won't to sit brooding over her
thoughts, but she did now. I noticed
that her cousin often called in tho early
morning, and that she spent much time
with him; that when he had gone, she
was pale, preoccupied in fact, entirely
unlike herself. also saw that she went
oftcuer to her money desk, and something
weighed upon her spirits; that now and
Y hut i dared Lot even conjecture, thou Oh
my mind was full of terrible misglvings.
One night I sat up waiting for her till
the clock struck eleven. knew the rec
tor had gone sometime before, and was
wondering what had become Of Miss
Laura. when the door flew open and she
came in.
Her face was startlingly pale, and her
eyes, unnaturally large, seemed to scin-
tillate with quick fiery flashes. For a
moment was frightened, but at sight of
me her countenance changed. She nod
ded and smiled in her own pretty fash.
ion; then. going straight to the mirror,
she suddenly gloomed again, and began,
in an absorbed way, to pull the pins out
of Der hair.
"Won't you let me do that for you. Miss
Laura2" l asked.
''Not now-I'm in hurry my hair is
50 heavy! it hurts me--my head has
ached all the evening. You may do it up
for the nieht--there! now, my dressing
gown, child-the easy chair. that is COM
Portable. don't often keep you up so
late, Renie. How cold your hands are!'
1t was not that my hands we're cold
it was that her bead was hot, it throbbe
heavily at the temples, and it almost
seemed as if the thick warm masses of
golden brown palpitated as they fell
over my arm, in rich, unrestrained lux
uriance.
At length the long coil was combed
and carefully fastened just above the
nape of the shapely neck
"That will d." she SAID, almost i'm
patiently, for still fingered. Il can get
along myself now
Then l heard one quick, passionate
sob, but her face was hidden from me,
for she had thrown both arms over her
head, and the drapery concealed her
features.
I left her reluctantly, feeling that
+ trouble had comc-troubie between my
beautiful mistress and the rector of St.
Paul's. Was it ON account of her hand
some cousin9 Vainly I tried to sleep.
The easily fancy that she was sobbing on
the other side OF the wall haunted me-
What if she still loved Philip Lansing2
The grave, proud face of Mr.. Walderon
seemed to tighten in disdain as caught
myself acting the part Of Miss Laura in
an Imaginary dramatic episode, he learn
ing the fact that the woman he loved had
been wooed, almost won, and thrown
:! aside,~ and that still her heart throbbed
ut sight Of her old lover.
On awaking the following morning,
found the sun shining broadly in my
room. Miss Laura was an earley riser.
and must have rung for me. Hastiy
dressing, l hurried to her room. She
was up, sitting in the great arm chair
listlessly, like one dreaming with open
eyes.
did You ring for me9" asked.
~ Yes. I believe I did," she re-
piled, with start. 'Dress me as quick.
" as you cam" she added, with forced
quiet; II will have my breakfast brought
up stairs. You can make some excuse to
Miss Knox-say am not we'll and l really
An not. don't care at all about break
fast. but: as am going out I suppose
had better eat something"
dressed her, and had a tray with
coffee and toast sent up. When she had
finished, she summoned me again.
"Renie, go put On your plainest
} wraps" she said, land thick veil, and
wait for me in the library. want YOU
ogo with me this morning."
Wondering at her manner, so quiet
and self-contained, so almost humble,
more than at the message, l arrayed my
se!t in waterproof cloak, and drew a
thick veil closely over my hat, and waited
for her As she had directed. She came in
presently, habited almost like a nun.
could see how white her face was under
the muller she had drawn ACROSS it.
Placing in my care parcel and q
small basket, she led the wav, leaving
word with servant that she might not
be back to luncheon.
- That the errand, whatever 1t was, was q
secret one, I knew by her manner, fol-
she was nervous, and evidently suffering
from some inward agitation. For sever
al squares We walked along silently, and
on turning the corner Of an obscure
street, she was joined by gentleman
:. whose tace I did not see at first, bu,
whose firm, elegant figure was unfanil.
lar to me.
I heard Miss Laura say, in answer to
= some iow-voiced remark:
>, ~ can trust her--there,a M risk Phil,