Daily globe., 1879-02-09

| blOOd-red curtains, made me think of the
tower where the princes were strangled.
| declined the assistance of maid, and
AStevens retired, leaving me one waxlight
which threw gigantic shadows on the
wall. My duties were not hard or various.
was to amuse my aunt when she bade
me; be always at ber chair back, and
speak only when spoken to. fell asleep
at last thinking Of poor little mammys
delight when she should receive my first
quarters salary.
My life was an uneventful one at the
Pines. l was never absent from my aunt,
but grew no more intimate with her than
at first. We had no company save Miss
Rushton's surgeon and solicitor, who
came once month to dinner, I sang very
little, and only in secret, as the grand
piano had not been opened in twenty
years, as Miss Rushton did not tolerate
music.
| One evening, when she dismissed me,
my aunt said, sternly:
"Asnes, expect the son Of my dearest
friend here tomorrow. He is to be my
heir, and caution you against designing
Or trying to gain his favor"
"Oh, aunt''-the hot blood rushing to
my cheeks.
"Be still. Do not know what the
| Aubreys are? But Hugh is an admirer
| OF beauty in woman, and do not think
you will fascinate him. See that you at
tend to my affairs, and leave Hugh alone"
But Hugh would not leave me alone.
scarcely looked at him for week.
Then, as he sat recounting adventures to
my aunt, saw that he was handsome
man of thirty, with crisp, black hair and
thoughtful, gray eyes-magnetic eyes,
whose giances troubled me for davs, and
haunted my dreams.
One bright November day. while my
! aunt was sleeping, I sat in the decayed
summerhouse, at my knitting, singing an
old Scotch song nanny had sang in
happier days. A shadow fell on my
work. Hugh Remedy stood before me.
"What sly little thing you are And
so you are Gerald Rushton's daughter
What are you doing at the Pines?"
"Do you not know? Let me pass
please.'
why do you always fly from me?
You have wonderful voice, which ought
to be cultivated. You should sing more"
"Miss Rushton does not like singing;
and am paid to keep silent"
You have Scotch wit. Please prom
ise not to hide yourself away, or run
from me again.
II cannot"
With easy grace he stepped aside.
"Well, go. I shall find you out, wher-
ever you are.''
I almost had it in my heart to hate
Hugh7 Kennedy for his cruel pursuit of
me; yet, oh, learned to love him so.
He came into my life when it was barren
and cherries, and my heart grew around
him, until felt that it would kill me to
go away. Yet go I must. My aunt
would lever forg i've me. She had higher
aims for Hugh. Here was prince for
Cinderella, but no godmother. hugged
my mad passion to my bosom and fed
faster and faster from Hugh One night
my aunt's bed curtains caught on fire,
and in rescuing her I burned nv hands
and face terribly. She was wheeled out
on the terrace, while Dark extinguished
the flames.
When came to, Hugh was holding
me in his arms, pitying my poor scared
hands, and kissing them passionately.
l rushed from him and hid myself in
my own room, with my great Joy and
great sorrow, thinking only that Hugh
had kissed me, and that I must leave
him forever.
Oh, if could have flung nv arms
around poor nanny, and cried myself
still
Hugh was in the corridor the next morn
ing as came down toward nv aunt's
door,
"Agnes, darling, you shall hear me!
Agnes, l love you truly, as God is my
Judge! mean right by you, my girl.
Will you listen to me?'
"Oh, Hugh, l cannot Let me go-let
me 60, if you pity mel"
"Agnes, first answer. am an honorable
man. I claim the right to be heard. Do
you love me?"
He was crushing my hand in his. His
breath came in quick gasps. Should
throw away my only chance of heaven2
But my PROMISE
You shall not ge! Do you love me,
Agnes! Why torture me?"
Eyes, yes-1 love you, Hugh! Let me
go now.''
One passionate embrace, and 1 fled to
my aunt's room.
you have come, Agnes, to hear me
thank you again tor saving my life. But
you did me no service''
''Oh, no, no! I came to tell you, aunt,
that must go way-to ask arelease from
you"
''ls it Hugh? If he has proven dis
honorable I shall disinherit him.
sit is not that-only must go away"
Sand what if will not?"
"Oh, aunt, you cannot be so cruel!H
She took my hand in hers~-stlu cold
and clammy.
"You love Hugh, Agnes. Well, you
shall go home to morrow, if you wish it.
Leave me now."
! Hugh had an interview with aunt, and
wrote me the result by the hand of
Stevens:
"My only love: I have nothing to
otter you now but my life-my undivid-
ed heart. We can be happy in each oth-
er's love, for you must and shall be mine |!
HUGH"
This letter I wore on my heart. NV
aunt's solicitor came that night. We all
knew the will was being changed. Hugh
had offended the hard, cold woman by
loving an Aubrey.
| That night my aunt died suddenly of
paralysis. I cannot tell how it shocked
me: Stevens and dressed her in white
satin bridal dress which had been folded
away for thirty years. This stroke was
retr:bution for assuming to be what she
was not, as she had never been a paraly-
tic! She was to be married in fortnight
to man she lovedpassionately. He for
bade her dancing. She went to hustings