The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1879-01-15

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will not be due for long time yet"
"What does it matter ?" said at last,
my heart filed with bitterness. "l
should not be expected to dress greatly.
l am ready to go just as anu"
"Oh, dare say" said Caro-, in high
disdain. "Playing Cinderella is quite
in your line; but there's to be no god
mother nor prince in the story. You're
going to drudge and slave for hideouf
old tyrant, and wear her ridiculous fine.
ry for pay. But anything for an excuse
to leave the drudgery here to Edith and
L, you ungrateful thing p
I've done it all my life uncomplain-
ingly," 1 plucked up spirit to say, con-
fdent it would not help my case, how
ever.
"Don't quarrel now, just before
separating" said poor nanny, almost
sternly.
And so it was settled that should
leave home; the letter was posted to my
hard aunt, who was to look for me Tues
day fortnight, some little time being
allowed for my preparations. These
were ridiculously simple. Ny few
things were to be "gotten up" as the
clear-starchers say, and l turned a
changeable silk gown of mammy's the
snuffy side out, and could have wept at
the thought of how I should look in it.
This, and my old black, and one or two
prints, were what I packed in my mean
little trunk, with many sobs and tears at
bidding farewell to poor nanny, who
cried so bitterly, her thin arms wound
about my neck, as if all her poor heart
left her by misfortune was bursting in
twain.
Goodbye, nanny darling, shall
write often, and if there are any earn
ings they shall come to you"
"One would think that Agnes were
on the eve of starting to America, "
sneered Edith, shaking my hand coldly,
and giving me dabby kiss on my tear
stained cheek.
Oh, 1 never knew what dear little
dun colored home it was, until 1 had
turned my back upon it in the chill
rain.
A gray-haired servitor, in gray stock
ings and rusty small clothes, met me at
four wheels, drawn by an animal not at
all unlike the solemn old man, who said
his name was Dark, and whom / shocked
unutterably by calling him Mr.. Dark.
1 had plenty of time for reflection as
we left the highway, turning up through
an avenue of paternal hemlocks, to the
no less forbidding old house, with
quantity of wings and windows, a ram
bling porch at the side, and one or two
statues on the terraces all soggy with
rain, and Uttered over with droppings
from the pines, whose fqnereal branches
had for years kept the sunshine from
that gloomy portal.
A staid, elderly woman, in respecta-
BILE silk gown, met me at the door with
the intelligence that my aunt was quite
put about at having kept the tea wait
ing quarter of an hour, which l ac-
cepted as an omen of bad beginning.
She was already sitting at the head of
the table in the dining -rOom--a gaunt
apartment, with high ceiling, heavy
mahogany furniture, and tall silver can
dlesticks.
A pallid old woman, with snow-white
hair and burning black eyes, with all
their old fire still smoldering in their
depths.
She held ont one hand, shrouded in a
black lace mitten.
"Come here | And so you are my
niece? But you are no Rushton. She
has sent me the plainest one, of course.
Well, 1 cursed your mother for her
beauty years ago. l am glad 1 shall not
be reminded of it in you. Sit down
there, at the foot, don't keep me waiting.
Hand her the tray, Stevens" :"
The pale, ghostly glimmer of the wax
lights on the Rushton plate, the whis-
pering of the wind in those gloomy
trees, the rustic of the silk gown as
Stevens came and went between my
new mistress and /, taken with the
of the situation, and the
of poor little mammy's
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,
at the back of Miss Rushton's s
chair-I could not accept her offhand as
an aunt-she wheeled her nearer the
light. My aunt was a paralytic then.
In spite of that hard face and those
fierce eyes, a 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 5a-
tiently.
81 want to say, Agnes, that if your
mother sent you here thinking to make
much OF it, she is mistaken. 1 take you
into my service as 1 would any worthy
and disinterested young person. 1 shall
pay you your wages quarterly, e40 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
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