Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1880-09-16
THE GHOST OF THE LABURNUMs.

because 1t Is so lonely there, Rae.
''For that reasOnI shall come" said
pretty Rapholla Fairlie II shall come
and keep you company for whole
week, lust as soon as / can get away
from the city. [ knew you and Phil
were moping," nodding her curly head
sagaciously.
A sudden gravity went over FANNIE
BrudenePs gentle countenance, yet her
eyes frightened eXpeCtantly.
II should love to have you there, OF
course" was all she said.
When train time came and Fannie
had left Rae's pretty studio and the
city, the little artist still sat daintily
touching the photograph she was color
ing, and evidently thinking of some
thing else. She was not sure that Doc
tor Philip Brudenel would exactly APP
prove Of her going to the Laburnams,
but she meant to go, for all that, for
She loved him, and she could plainly
see that he had cares and perplexities
Of which she knew nothing. And
though they had been engaged over a
year, he made no proposal of marry
ing soon, only looked mOOdily when
the subject was approached. Rae so
enjoyed his company that she could
live with him in the black hole of Cal
cutta, she declared to herself, but prob
ably Philip did not think SO. Anyway
she was going to the Laburnums, his
home at Lowshore, because she felt
that her love gave her right to know
what was troubling him.
Ten days later she locked her studio
and steamed away to Lowshore, and
soon the depot carriage had set her
down at the door of n tiny cottage hid
in laburnum-trees.
Fannie kissed her affectiOnately.
"What delightful apparition you
are, Rae" she said, and led her into Il
little sitting-room.
Everything was very plain, and very,
very tiny, Rae thought, accustomed to
spacious city apartments; and when
Fannie had taken her hat and travel
ing-sachel, and gone to spread lunch
for her Rae looked around and saw
that the carpet was threadbare and the
furniture extremely old-fashioned.
Suddenly Il door opened, and an old
lady, leaning on a cane, tottered into
the room. Her face, bordered by a
snowy cap, had strange, white, puffy
look, but She yet showed signs of hay
ing been very pretty in youth.
''What are you ?" she asked Rae, "a
fairy? Do you think you can better
our fallen fortunes? No, no! that can
never be.
RAGS check burned under the
strangely significant words, but she
guessed Immediately that the old lady's
mind was wandering; then Fannie en-
tered the room.
Come, mother, come and rest now,
she said, gently, and drew her from the
room. She came back, saying to Rae:
My mother is demented. Do not be
troubled by anything she says"
1t was evening when Doctor Philip
brought his fine presence into the tiny
home. His start of delight on behold
ing Rae was succeeded by Il rather sad
smile.
"What pleasure did you expect to
find here, child?" he asked, holding
her hand.
Perhaps | did not come fol pleasure,
Philip"
For what them
Profit"
II find very little of that here"
Two DAYS passed. Rae saw plainly
what the life was at the Laburnums-
monotonous, meager; but ever since
Philip had first brought his sister to her
studio, Rae lad loved Fannie, who was
older than herself, and patiently becom-
ing one of the sweetest of old maids.
SO she enjoyed sisterly talks with Fan
ME. Philip was absent most of the
time.
'You ought to have come in the
early autumn, Rac-it is prettier then.
In November we have nothing attract
ive-literallv nothing. have often eX-
pressed the wish to Philip to have you
visit us; but he always speaks of the
contrast between your life and ours
you in the city, with access to so much
that is entertaining, and we so shut
out from the world. But because 1t Is
you, think, Rae, that | will show you
the house in the hollow"
THE house in the hollow, Fan"
'1es, our ancestral home; for Philip
and came of a prosperous race, poor
rs we now are, and the old house is full
of what is beautiful and rare. Get
your Ilstl anu We Will ~ IloN
Through long lines of labunums,
across tiny kitchen garden along 4
decaying orchard into slope still green
in the November sunshine. At one
end of the valley which opened toward
the sea, where white sails were noise
lessly fitting, stood a large and hand
some house of painted brick, with oriel
windows and other picturesque effects.
1T is not an old house, said Fannie.
1T was built by my grandfather, in his
last days, as a wedding present to my
mother. The old house which had for
merly stood here he had pulled down
and this built. He intended to reside
with his only daughter when she mar
ried Israel Beaucaire, a French Jew
whom he had chosen for her. But my
mother fell in love with her music
teacher. Ross Brudenel, and elOped
with him, and grandfather wrote and
babe her never to come back. But
when Philip and | were fatherless, my
mother came, in her great extremity,
and begged her fathers assistance.
Grandfather gave her this cottage we
have now, and allowed her small in
come with which to bring us up, but
never forgave her. At last he died, willing
all his property to distant cousin IN
India. who has never come for 1t. The
house stands empty with all its beauti-
tut Furniture, and the rich fields lie fall
low, while Philip barely supports Us
with his small practice. Lowshore Is a
1istressingly healthy place" with a
faint smile.
Tho inferior IF the horSe was finish