The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1880-08-11

MIN II ne dld not wish to see his rela-
tives.
"Be trembled violently, and seemed
| IN the greatest distress, and only by the
tenderest words could soothe him, as
half sobbing. he declared that they
were his bitterest enemies, and that DR..
Orman was the only friend he had in
the world. Any further efforts made
to get at the secret of his life were fruit
less, and only threw him into pal oxosms
of distress. During the month of Au-
gust he was very i'll, or at least DR.. Or,
man said 80. | scarely saw him, there
were no letters in the rose-bush, and
I, frequently the dispute between the two
men rose to- pitch which father serious
ly disliked.
lone hot day in September every one
was in the fields or orchard; only the
doctor and Alfred and I we're in the
house. Early in the afternoon boy
came from the village with letter to
DR.. Orman, and he seemed very much
perplexed and at loss how to act. At
length he said Miss Phoebe, I must 20
to the village for couple Of hours ;s1
think MIR. Alfred will sleep until my re-
turn, but if not, will you try and amuse
himp
II promised gladly, and DR.. Orman
went back to the village with the mes.
senger. No sooner was be out OF sight
than Alfred appeared, and we rambled
about the garden as happy as two lovers
could be. But the day was extremely
hot, and as the afternoon advanced the
heat increased. proposed then that
we should walk up the hill, where there
was generally breeze, and Alfred was
delighted at the larger freedom it prom
iSed us.
But in another hour the sky grew
dark and lurid, and l noticed that Al
fred grew strangely restless. His checks
flushed, his eyes had wild look of ter
ror in them, he trembled and started,
and in spite of all my efforts to soothe
him grew irritable and gloomy. Yet he
had just asked me to marry him, and |
had promised l would. He had called
me his wife, and ! had told him again
my suspicious about DR.. Orman, and
vowed to nurse him myself back to per-
feet health. We had talked, too, of
going to Europe, and in the eagerness
and delight of our new plans, had wan
the top of the hill.
Then l noticed Alfred's excited con-
dition, and saw also that we were going
to have thunder storm. There was an
empty log-huL OF far away, and l urged
Alfred to try and reach it before the
storm broke. But he became suddenly
like child in his terror, and it was only
with the greatest difficulty / got him
within its shelter.
GAS peal after peal of thunder crashed
above us, Alfred seemed to lose all con-
troll of himself, and, seriously offended,
l left him, nearly sobbing, in a corner,
and went and stood by myself in the
open door. In the very height of the
storm saw my father. DR.. Orman and
three of our workmen coming through
the wood. They evidently suspected
our sheltering place, for they came dl-
rectly toward it.
"Altredn shouted DR.. Orman, in the
tone OF an angry master, where are you
sirP Come here instantly
my pettedness instantly vanished,
and said: Doctor, you have no right
to speak to Alfred in that way. He is
going to be my husband, and shall not
permit 1t any more
"Miss Wakefield, he answered, this
is sheer folly. Look there!'
Il turned and saw Alfred crouching
in corner, completely paralyzed with
terror; and yet, when DR.. Orman spoke
to him, ne rose mechanically, as a dog
might follow his masters call.
81 am sorry, Miss Wakefield, to de.
stroy your tlne romance. MIR. Alfred
Compton is, as you perceive, not tit to
marry any lady. In fact, | am his
keeper
"Oh, Aunt Phoebe! Surely he was not
a lunatic!'
$50 they said, Julia. His frantic ter
ror was the only sign saw Of it; but
DR.. Orman told my father that he was
at all times really dangerous, and that
he was annually paid large sum to
take charge of him, as he became uncon-
trollable in an asylum"
Ibid you see him again?"
mo. found little note in the rose
bush, saying that he was not mad; that
he remembered my promise to be his
wife, and would surely come some day
and claim me. but they left in three
days, and Melissa. whose wedding out
bit was curtailed in consequence, twitted
me very unkindly about my tine crazy
lover. 1t was q little hard on me, for
he was the only lover / ever had. Me-
lissa and Jane both married, and went
West with their husbands; l lived on
at Ryelands, faded little old maid, un-
til my Uncle Joshua sent for me to come
| to New York and keep his fine house for
him. You know that he left me all he
had when he died, nearly two years
ago. Then sent for you. / remem-
bered my own lonely youth, and thought
l would give you fairer chance
dear"
did you ever hear of him again,
auntp"
"Of him. never. His eldest brother
died more than year ago. l suppose
Alfred died many years since; he was
very frail and delicate. l thought it
was refinement and beauty then; l
know now it was i'll health"
"Poor aunt"
MAY, child,"I was very happy while
my dreamed lasted; and I never will
believe but that Alfred in his love tor
me was quite sare, and perhaps more
sincere than many wiser men,"
After this confidence Miss Poebe
seemed to take great pleasurei in speak
ing of the little romance of her youth,
Often the old and the yonng maidens
sat in the twilight discussing the proba.
bilities of poor Alfred Compton's life
and death, and every discussion lsf,
them more and more positive that he
had been t, victim Of some cruel plot
The subject never tired Miss Phoebe
and Julia, in the absence of lover O
her own, found in it a charm quite ir
koonino with hey own vonthful dreams