The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-01-22

pering OF the wind In those gloomy
trees. the rustic of the silk gown as
Stevens came and went between my
new mistress and I, taken with the
strangeness of the situation, and the
remembrance of poor little nanny g
fearful speeches, and the plaintive song
of the robin, deprived me of all appetite,
and I only minced at the currant jam
and biscuit.
Stevens cleared away the things,
leaving the cloth and the candles, and,
standing at the back of Miss Rushton's
chair-I could not accept her ofhand as
an aunt-she wheeled her nearer the
light. My aunt was paralytic then.
In spite of that hard face and those
fierce eyes, sudden, strange pity filled
me. How hard it must have been, how
hard for one in whose veins still flowed
the wild current of the Rushton blood.
She beckoned me to her side impa-
tiently.
81 want to say, Agnes, that if your
mother sent you here thinking to make
much of it, she is mistaken. take you
into my service as I would any worthy
and disinterested young person. shall
pay you your wages quarterly, 940 per
year and your living, which is all you
will be worth; and do not intend to add
one pound or promise any favors from
the fact of your being Gerald Rushton's
daughter. You understand ?"
nodded silently, feeling too much
hurt to trust my voice.
"Stevens, my cabinet ?"
She unlocked the box and took out
some bank-notes with her gloved hand.
ct make it q rule to give one quarter
in advance. Here are ten pounds.
Stevens will acquaint you with your
duties and show you to your chamber.
T shall not require you before nine In
the morning. Goodnight"
Not tired, but glad to escape from
that room, I ventured to raise one thin
hand to my lips, but shrank back-those
fingers were icy-cold.
l was not naturally timid girl, but
the lofty corridors, highly vaulted
passages, and shadowy room, hung with
moldering tapestry, made me feel cold
and frightened. Everything about the
room was dark and ponderous. Some
how, the canopied bedstead, with its
blood-red curtains, made me think of
the tower where the princes were
strangled. declined the assistance OF
a maid, and Stevens retired, leaving me
one waxlight, which threw gigantic
shadows on the wall. My duties were
not hard or various. I was to amuse my
aunt when she bade me; be always at
her chair back, and speak only when
spoken to. I fell asleep at last thinking
of poor little mammy's delight when
she should receive my first quarters
salary.
NV life was an uneventful one at the
Pines. I 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 solic-
itor, 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:
"Agnes, I expect the son of my dear
est friend here tomorrow. he is to be
my heir, and I caution you against de-
signing or trying to gain his favor"
"Oh, aunt - the hot blood rushing
to my cheeks.
"Be still. Do I not know what the
Aubreys are2 But Hugh is an admirer
of beauty in woman, and do not think
you will fascinate him. See that
you attend to my affairs, and leave Hugh
alone.'
But hugh would not leave me alone.
I scarcely looked at him for week.
Then, as he sat recounting adventures
to my aunt, T saw that he was hand
some man OF thirty, with crisp, black
hair and thoughtful, gray eyes-mag-
netic eyes, whose glances troubled me
for days, and haunted my dreams.
Que bright November day, while my
aunt was sleeping, 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 mea
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 a Scotch wit. Please
promise not to hide yourself away, or
run from me again."
"I cannot"
With easy grace he stepped aside.
"Well, 60. shall find you out,
wherever you are"
almost had it in my heart to hate
Hugh Kennedy for his cruel pursuit of
me; vet, oh, learned to love him 30.
He came into my life when it was bar
rem and cheerless, and my heart grew
around him, until I felt that it would
kill me to 60 away. Yet go I must.
My aunt would never forgive me. She
had higher aims for Hugh. Here was
prince for Cinderella, but no god
mother. I Ihugged 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 burned my hands and face terribly.
She was wheeled out on the terrace,
while Dark extinguished the flames.
When I came to, Hugh was holding
me in his arms, pitying my poor SCARED
hands. and kissing them passionately.
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 I could have flung my arms
around poor nanny, and cried myself
still.
Hugh was in the corridor the next
morning as I came down toward my
aunt's door.
"Agnes, darling, you shall hear me !!
Agnes, I love you truly, as God is my
Judge! I mean right by you, my girl.
Will you listen to me?"
"Oh, Hugh, I cannot! Let me go
let me 60, if you pity me p
"Agnes, first answer me. I 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 I throw away my only chance of
heavenp But my promise -
"You shall not go Do you love me,