The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1879-07-12


her guests became wearisome to him
after that, and presently he went back
TO town and to his business, in which he
immersed himself. For while Raby's
face tioated before his eyes; but the
image dimmed as months went by, and
IN time would probably have faded out
altogether, had it not been recalled
oddly and unexpectedly by the follow
ing circumstance.
He was passing one day the shop of a
taxidermist, an elderly man with whom
he had some slight acquaintance, when
he heard his name called.
"Did you want me, Mr.. Balch?" put
ting his head in at the door. 81 thought
heard your voice"
ooh, yes, Mr.. Freke, / did want you
very much, and l ventured to call and
stop you," replied Mr. Balch, hurrying
out from an inner room. excuse me;
| just wanted to put on my coat. It's
about Mrs. Morpeth's will, Mr.. Freke."
"And who was Mrs. Morpeth?" asked
Ernest, seating himself on a wooden
bench.
"Mrs Morpeth, sir! Why, you must
know, | think, or at least you will know
her house, the one with the queer steps,
in Dun street.-the Rallied House, as the
neighbors call it,
"Oh, that queer, handsome old house
next to the junk shop? / do remember.
| have often wondered who lived there.
And what did Mrs. Morpeth do about a
will"
"Well, that's just it, sir. Pm in a
great difficulty. Mrs. Morpeth left me
her executor, sir, and don't know what
to do about it. You sir, there's good
bit of property-a very good bit. She
was clever, for woman, very clever.
And she bought up real estate all over
the city. And there's the Rallied House
and what it holds; fifty thousand dol.
lars, | should say it was worth, at least;
some folks think it viii foot up sixty"
"That's nice sum indeed. But what
is your difficulty? Who are the heirs?"
"That's just it, Mr.. Freke-nobody
can tell, sir. It is left to--but | have
copy of the will here; I'll show YOU"
The document, briefly drawn, but in
strict legal form, devised all property of
every description of which the testator
might die possessed "to the child or
children of my niece Esther LIE Baron,
eldest daughter Of my sister Esther
Platt. l do not know their present
name or residence" That was all.
Nothing could be more indifnite.
Have you done anything about find
ing these Platts-I mean LIE Barons?"
said Ernest, folding up the paper.
"NO, l haven't. l don't know how to
begin about it. That was why | wanted
to see you, Mr.. Freke. Ought l to ad-
vertise?"
81 should think so, certainly. But
are there no letters or papers in the
house to give clew?"
II haven't lit on any, sir. But then
l haven't searched regular. Could you
spare the time to step round there with
me, Mr.. Freke? l should be very
grateful"
81 couldn't to-day, but I might to-
morrow"
So the appointment was made.
The Rallied House had been a stately
mansion in its day, with other stately
mansions about it. Now, with Junk
shop on either side, ond row of sailors
boarding houses opposite, it looked like
the wreck of fine old frigate aground
in the mud of some ignoble harbor.
Inside, it held mine Of riches for the
curiosity lover. Nothing had been added
and nothing taken away for century
past. No papers were to be found, how
ever; as one receptacle after another was
yainly searched, the little taxidermist
grew disconsolate.
You would think the old lady burned
up every thing on purpose to make trou-
ble," he said; wouldn't you know?
What can a man do with all this con-
fusion of LIE Barons and Platts and Nor
peths? They have all married and got
different names long ago, most likely.
Why, Mr.. Freke, what is it? what have
yoI found, sir?" for his companion had
uttered sudden exclamation.
There, on the shelves of a buffet which
he had just opened, were ranged in
splendid row platters and dishes and
cups of magnificent India china, blue,
crimson and gold, with on each the same
little shield and monogram, in sharp,
cleaning lines of color, which he had
last seen in faded tints on the old plate
in Mrs. Sabina MarshaPs cupboard
months before. It was certainly the
same; he recognized it instantly. But
how came it here? And what was the
link between this rich and lonely woman
and Mrs. Marsh and pretty Raby in their
quaint solitude and crave poverty?
He made no distint explanation to the
puzzled executor, but advised him to
defer advertising for a little while; and
the next day but one found him at the
gate of the old house again. No bright
girl-face smiled welcome this time;
Raby had gone back to her school-teach-
ing, and Aunt Sabina, grim as ever, re-
ceived him.
Her distant and suspicious manner
gradually thawed as she discerned the
meaning of his questions. Mrs. Nor
peth was her aunt, her mothers sister.
Her grandmother name was Platt, and
her mother was the Barbara Holdsworthy
Hagen of the china monogram. Yes,
her mother did marry a LIE Baron. He
was Frenchman. He did not live very
long after the marriage. Did he turn
out badly? She could not say-it
wasn't for her te speak i'll of her own
father, but the family took offence and
never would have anything to do with
her mother mother afterward. No, she
never saw her aunt, and she never want
ed to. In her opinion they treated her
mother shamefully. Raby's mother was
older than she, two years older. She
was dead no, and so was Mr.. Glenn.
Raby was the only child. Prove it?
Why, of course she could, but why
should she? Everybody knew about the
Marshes and the Glenns-eyery body that
had any business to, that wa. And
pray why did the gentleman ask all
these questions? What concern was it
Of his