Morris tribune., 1880-09-16

And fancy reveleth In thy mysteries.
o hash! thou hidest from thy yotary's sight
More secrets than are wrapped in death and
night.
David L. Proudae in Ne,v York G4aphie:
AFTER LONG YEARS.
"What is this, Burt9"
"That is the mortgage of an estate
called the Derby Place, Mr.. Faxon, fore
closed more than year, I believe"
swell, it's what I've been looking for.
I will take charge ofthe papers and at
tend to the matter soon. Down East,
isn't it,"
= Yes, sir.n
Mr.. Faxon put the papers into the
breast pocket of his coat. came down the
Office stairs. and stepped into the gilt
tering, purple-Ened phaeton, beside his
wife.
ssGolng away again tomorrow, dearH"
asked Mrs. Faxon, suddenly lifting her
fair countenance, as she interrupted her
husband. "You seem to be away all the
time lately. Take me with you"
Mot this time Violet"
And Violet Faxon's husband fell into
a lit of abstraction, from which the
smartest chatter failed to arouse him.
They came at last to the Faxon man
sion, grand and simple, and fulfilling Its
promise of beautiful interior:
Amid the white lace and crimson silk
of her chamber, Violet was brushing out
her long, fair halr, when her husband
paused in the doorway, and looked at
her sharply. ) Them he. came slowly
across the room, and lifting the oval face
in his hand, looked closely at the roseate
cheek, pearly ear and curved lashes.
"What is it," asked Violet, "a freck-
le?"
"No," he answered, smiling family
and strolllng across the chamber. "You
looked like my sister then-that was
ALL
"Your sister, dear9 You never told me
about her." said Violet. .-- ,rta-
| "No," he answered, and said no more.
Mr.. Faxon bore no resemblance to his
delicate, patrician wife. A little less
than thirty, dark, strongly built, active,
vigorous, he impressed one as strong
character. If, with a remarkably rich
comeliness of countenance, there were
some lines of dissipation, there was adso
certain evidence of strong good sense
and look of deep experience.
He was up and away at daybreak the
next morning. An early train bore him
eastward, and nine o'clock found him
landed at little station called Sea-
brock.
The dismal little building was set IN
field of clover, around which road
wound away among the mounds of YER
dure.
After glance around, Mr.. Faxon took
his road and walked slowly along. The
robins hoped across it, the bObolinks
sang in the trees over it. The unassum-
ing white clover among the grass perfum-
ed the morning air.
4 He passed only few houses, but he
observed them attentively. They were
all old and humble farmhouses. Appar.
emily this property which had by the fore.
closure of mortgage, fallen to Mr.. Fax.
on. was not situated in very rich. or en-,
terprising neighborhood.
When he had walked nearly a mile
he came to green dooryard, among
WIDE spread apple trees, with well
sweep among them, and residence
though plain, more pretentious and com
Portable than the others.
There was a narrow well-woln path
among the short grass and buttercups to
the porch, where q bitter sweet rwined
; its strong arms. In the corner under the
verdure, was an armchair, both boob
and cane lying across it-a gnarled, twist
ed cane of hickory, that Faxon looked
twice at. The book he saw was the Bi
be.
There was an old lady with sweet
, face, and snowy cap strings, tied unde
her double chin, knitting at a window
, near by, but his quiet step had not dis
] turbed her.
. He had put his hand to the knocker
, he took it down again as he caught sigh
, of the placid face. He stood there quit
J still for several minutes. A gray ca
came and rubbed against his leg. Som
apple blossoms floated down, touched hi
J cheek.
At length the gentle lips moved.
"Father, you had best lie down ant
t take rest said the mild old lady.
: "Such old peoplel and / have come t
t take their home away" sand Mr.. Faxon
3 There was strong pain in his darl
} face now, as he stood looking at tn
porch floor.
: After moment he STEPPED of the porch
3 on the further side, and walked away I'm
: der the apple trees.
Il When Mr.. Faxon came back from hi
e brief stroll, his presence, as he crosse
I the yard, was observed.
A white halred old man, who had jus
: come to the open door and taken up th
|. staff, turned back hastily, with q te'
s hurried words, and the aged woman the
i: dropped her knitting and arose, with
paleness coming over her face.
: But, while Mr.. Faxon hesitated ON til
|, tporch again, both came to the door. Sac
: startled faces they both had, but the
were civil. Their greeting was kind.
e as to friend.
It. "My name is Faxon,' said the visito
a ~ am
It 1--WE know who you be, sir" said Il
ID old man-"we know who you be, thong
:, we never seed you before. Will you NJ
e come lns"
e Mr.. Faxon stepped across the whit
hall-foor into the quaint, cool and CON
Is Portable sitting-room.
l. The rough, blue paper, like chintz, {
r the wall, some "honesty" and dried gra
In Opaque vases on the high, narrow ma
% tel piece, unconsciously struck his eve
while he took seat, his mind occupie
1t with other thoughts.
t. "We've been long expectin' you, sir
70 said the old lady.
d Her hands, crossed on the spotle
'e gingham apron upon her lap, trembled
little, but the serenity of her manner vi
not changed.
But the old mans eyes swan in tear
a He rested both hands on the hlckol
J. stick between his knees, as he sat in
n corner, and bending his forehead upc