The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-04-03
ANSON GREY,

him than they knew about the dead. /
His early years had been passed abroad,
where, or how, nobody knew, and most
had ceased to care, for that matter; the
last two years had been passed in Bur
lingame.
A brilliant light at night, shining from
the great east windows, and occasional
gallops through the town, by day, were
the only tokens of his presence. How
ever, a change was coming, and that
without warning. Anson Grey fell sick
suddenly and dangerouslyyao. The
village doctor was summoned, who in
turn telegraphed for another from the
neighboring city in hot haste, and to-
gether they said in whispers that their
patient would probably die. There was
20 woman in the great house to act as
nurse, and the head servant, obeying
doubtless his masters orders, refused to
allow one there as yet.
How it came about was a mystery, but
one morning, when the master had laid n
week half senseless, an unusual cloud OF
dust was observed whirling up the hill,
and emerging theretrom was Il carriage,
splashed and weathcr-stained, headed by
two straining, painting horses, who came
up to the entrance as if driven by the
evil Que. A lady, tall and fair as sun
light, pushed open the carriage door I'M
patiently and sprang out. With hasty
glance around She hurried up the steps,
entered the drawing-room, and stood be-
fore the two astonishcd gentlemen who
were seated there.
"Is Arson Grey alivew
"Yes, but he grows worse"
Before they OWNED her intention she
had passed them, and was in the next
room bending over the sick man.
"The devil will he to pay if she eX-
cites him now," the elder one said. 'If
some good nurse had come it might have
been of some use; but this dainty thing
bahw
She came out in moment, her face
white but determined
"Will you be kind enough to send for
a minister and remain until he comesW
she asked, as she began to remove her
things.
There was something in her manner
that forbade questioning, and they oheyed
her like SO many dumb men, as they said
afterward.
The minister did come; William Skin
ner, the head servant was called, and at
ter the three held a private conference,
which seemed satisfactory, they came
out and to the amazement of them all,
the lady stood beside Anson Grey, and
the marriage VOWS were taken.
The wise doctors were mistaken in
their estimate of their unknown. She
WAS something besides a fair young lady,
as her action soon proved. A new order
Of thing was instituted in the sick mans
room, and his wife installed herself as
nurse, change which told for the bet
, ter. In month he was riding through
the village, with his wife by his side, all
eyes, Of course, agog to catch a glimpse
Of her handsome face.
All agreed that she was Just an angel
and when they came to church the next
Sunday, and sat down in one of the pews
like other people, they were more thar
ever confirmed in their opinion. What
they never knew was this:
:. Three years before, Anson Grey
naughty and indolent, was killing time
: at one of the fashionable watering places
2 where Edith WiIloughby also fingered
+ though sorely against her will.
A sweet and wondrously fair face
much admired and sought after AnsoI
Grey had half mind to enter the list
E with the others, but something kept hin
) back, and he only exchanged few word
: with her now and then.
There happened to come heavy two
: days food, and the first night of it Edit
e sent servant asking Mr.. Grey to com,
$ to a private parlor for moment. HI
: obeyed the summons with alacrity, won
! dering much what could be coming now
Il Edith was waiting for him, cloakct
e and hooded, and evidently in haste to b'
G off somewhere.
+ Il hope you will pardon me-" she said
! as she closed the door behind him, "bu
Il really | did not know whom to ask, an,
u mamma will not allow me to 60 by my
self A poor woman down on the beacl
s. is sick, perhaps dying, and ] must go t.
, see her. Her little boy just came afte
a a me. was there yesterday, and they ar
y in great distress. Could trouble you t.
90 with me?"
~ will do your errand; tits too storm,
u for you to venture out"
J. Cob, it's no errand; lam sorry to trou
J. ble anybody"
Mr.. Grey saw what was wanted, an
l. saying he would be back directly, van
o ished for his rubber suit.
The rain drove into their faces, and tn
Il wind howled through the dark night lik
&c the minister of Il thousand storms-no
Is for poor fsherwoman, perhaps, but TO
u one as good and fair as Edith Wilough
i by, he should not have hcsitated a me
| e ment. When they came upon the beac
l. the waves fairly leaped into their face,
v and Edith shivertd, and clung hal
o terrified to her companion in spite Q
- herself.
e II believe you had better return now
? and leave it to me-" he said.
l. "No, we are almost there | shoul
e never forgive myself il | did" she al
e swered, catching her breath as she spoke
a 1T is only you I'm worried ABOUT"
l. Il ain glad to be able to help you," h
n said. And | think he spoke the truth.
Inside the cottage poor Grace Poole
lay on her hard bed trying TO- breathe o
a little longer, if 50 the goodtLod Nigh
, send some friends before she died to car
n for her poor orphan boy.
ID When the door opened her eyes brigh
l. ened and she raised up little.
J. "Thc Lord bless ye for coming. | kno
:, : He will" she said, as Edith threw off ht
3 wet covering and went toward Bei'.
e "This is only one of TIE boarders VII