The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-05-21
"She never saw her, believe" And
putting the plate back on the shelf, she

| friend Mr.. Ereke here had nothing to 90
with it, and the truth is, that am so
foolishly fond of old china that l cannot
keep my hands off it wherever it is. "
The tone was very winning, and Raby's
face relaxed in spite Of itself. Barbara
Hagen Glenn was my girls name, but no
one ever called her Barbara, not evenAunt
Marsh, who had little tolerance for pet
names or nonsense of any kind. Every
body said "Raby," and the crisp little
title seemed to suit her better than a
longer and finer one could. She half
smiled; and when Mrs. Hunter went on
still in the same charming tone-'What
an odd, and curious, and delightful
looking old house this is It seems just
the place for a story. l am devoted to
these old-fashioned houses, and they are
pulling them down so fast all over the
country, it is quite shocking, Do you
think, if came over some day, your
aunt would let me 60 over it Pit would
be such treat r'-the smile flashed into
full, brilliant life, frightening the brown
eyes so wonderfully that Mr.. Freke,
quite dazed, said within himself, I" 1t is
the most charming face I ever saw" ;"
Raby was fond of the old house. 1t
vexed her often that her aunt cared so
little for it, and dwelt on its inconveni-
ences so much more than on its quaint
ness. No one save herselfhad ever seemed
alive to its merits before. Mrs. Hunter
had made q chit"
Il think aunt wouldn't mind it," she
said, half to herself, then. |" If you like
I will show it to you now. But there is
nothing to see but the house itself. That
is really curious. I 1never met with an
other like it." ...
"Will you, indeed? How very kind"
cried Mrs. Hunter, with rapid, raptur-
Gus blink in Mr.. Freke's direction. Her
imagination was already at work cheap
ening the treasures of the attic, rs they
followed their young hostess down the
long entry which separated the kitchen
from the front of the house.
A large square room lay on either side
of the entry. But here disappointment
awaited Mrs. Hunter, for these rooms
were altogether unfurnished. Upstairs
they met the same experience; in the
two occupied chambers the simplest
furniture; dust and bare emptiness every
where else. Even the garnet held moth
ing to reward search-none OF the spin
ming wheels, or antique brasses, or eight
day clocks with broken cogs, which Mrs.
Hunters soul coveted. Her taste for old
houses was simulated one. What she
really cared for was their purchasable
contents. and failing these. her interest
visibly tagged. In vain Raby, with a
pretty graciousness, pointed out the real
ly curious points about the old dwelling
the wainscotings, the high carved
chimney pieces, the oddly paneled shut
ters; showed the recess under the floor
ing in which valuables might be hidden
in case of need, the bedroom in the lean
to addition, where shingled roof de-
sceuded to form part of the ceiling; and
even told a ghost story, the story of
a lady in q rustling skirt, which skirt she
averred rustled still ofwindy nights; she
herself had heardit.' Mrs. Hunter listen
ed without interest. Her thoughts We're
dwelling on the old plate, and she did
not notice, as did Mr.. Freke, how excite
ment had quickened Itaby's bloom and
brichtened her eyes with positive beauty
as She led the way from room to room
with a cordial simple grace, from which
all reserve and stiffness had fled.
n
Mrs. Hunter said, suddenly, as they re-
gained the kitchen. DO you think
your aunt would be likely to be in to-
morrow? I must come over and talk
with her about it; or perhaps, Mr..
Freke, you will come for me if the Hol-
mans arrive and I am detained?"
with pleasure"
Raby's face cloude little.
Il do not think n !aunt will sell the
plate" she said, in lail Oa aconstrained
voice; "but she W probably be ut
home"
1--WE can but try" laughed. Mrs.
Hunter. "Good-afternoon, Miss-Miss
Marsh, and thank you ever so much. !"
She swept down the walk. Mr.. Freke
paused.
"It was very good of you to take so
much trouble for US" he said, in tone
whose sincerity Raby recognized.
Every probably your aunt may not care
to sell the plate-I should not myself if
owned such one-but if Mrs. Hunter
gives me the commission, I shall GER
tainly come, for the pleasure of making
another call upon you" He lifted his
hat as he spoke, and with courteous
bow followed Mrs. Hunter down the
path.
THAT'S real gentleman solilo-
quized Raby, as they drove off. And
she-I don't know. Shes pretty, and
her voice is pleasant, but somehow
there's difference. l don't think l like
her-quite." She had her own ideas
about life, this little Raby, about "real :"
ladies and "real" gentlemen, and in
stinct helped her surely to conclusions
usually arrived at only by the slow pro-
cess of experience.
Mr.. Freke did drive over next day.
He was received very grimly by Aunt
Sabina Marsh, whom he found in
trenched, as it were, in front of her cor
ner cupboard, and resolved not to cede
her plate, or listen to any arguments
whatever on the subject. This refusal,
sooth to say, caused no particular grief
to the disloyal messenger. He cared
little for the plate, but a good deal for
the chance for another chat with Raby,
who was more piquantly pretty than
ever, in the effort to hide her amusement
at her aunt's grim and defiant manners.
Ernest Freke made one more call at
the old house before he went back to
town, but only one. II could fall in
love with that girl" he said to himself
as he drove homeward; and he made a
little picture in his mind of Raby in a
fresh morning dress, pouring out coffee
at the opposite end of dainty breakfast
table for two, with sunshine streaming
through an open window behind, and
touching with glints of gold all that
beautiful hazel hair of hers-ta pretty
picture. Ernest Freke was half artist,
and his imagination naturally conjurcd
such scenes; but he shook his head.
He could not afford to marry (that point
was settled long ago) unless, indeed But
here he shook his head again. The
chances were against his falling in love
with girl who had money. lie could
not do without the money, and he would
not do without the love, so he dismissed
the idea of marriage. He was an hon
orable young fellow at heart, however
and he: would not 60 again to see Raby.
whats the use?" he told himself.
"Better not" But Mrs. Hunter and
her quests 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 dimmcd as months went by, and
in time would probably have faded out
altogether, had it not been recalled oddly
and Unexpectedly by tile following cir
cumstance.
He was passing one day the shop o.
taxidermist, an elderly man, with