Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1880-09-22

MOfDocK Hall, WIN SuCn 81 cOlupdulou
as my dear lassie, instead of eking out
her widows jointure amongst o lot OF old
tabbies in some stufy London street.
But to do her justice, think the woman
meant well, and she was kind to Lucy
after fashion of her own, for [ do be-
heve she loved the poor child as much
as she could love any one but herself.
After all, she was q Gedge of Morbeck,
and noblesse oblige you know, my boy.
She was just one OF those women-I dare
say you have seen plenty of them in Lon
don-who can't forget at fifty that they
were beauties at half the age, and who
have managed by hook and by crook to
get their own way all their lives. | sup
pose her husband knocked under for
peace and qTietness' sake, and she never
had any children to worry, SO she came
to domineer over Lucy with all the de-
| light of having found new pastlme. L
remember one time when she was Ill,
and. like the obstinate fool she was,
wouldn't obey the doctor; she said she
| had had her own way all her life and was
not going to be contradicted at her time
of life I thought should have choked
when that slipped out; but it was no
laughing matter, lad, the mischief she
made through that "way of hers.
| Well, to make long story short, the
aunt had firmly determined that her
niece should marry some scrapegrace of
fellow whose name I don't remember,
and don't want to- never saw him.;
his chief recommendations were, bro
ken constitution, an empty purse, dis
| tant relationship to the late Tom Pos
| 41o41 L, D1I AL Go Il
| had settled that bonnie Lucy Gedge
should be my lady. and bolster up my
lords fallen fortunes with the broad
blands and full Golfers of Morbeck
Hall. Unfortunately for her schemes it
takes two to make a bargain, and my
niece was as sensible girl as ever
stepped in shoe leather, so it was open
war between them, or rather passive re-
| sistance on Lucy's part, and a course of
alternating nagging and wheedllng on
her aunt's. / knew the main reason of
the girls steadfastness well enough-she
would tell anything to old uncle John,
bless herl There was true love and
faithful troth between her and young
Hugh Nelson of Gilthwaite; and he was
of my own blood too, though not so near
as Lucy, and had watched him grow up
from bright mischief-loving boy to the
handsome, brave young squire, for
whom every one had smile and good
word-just the man [ thought, to make
my darling happy. But, as [ told you,
they could do nothing independent till
Lucy was of age, SO there was nothing
for it but to wait, and they did wait pa
tiently, whilst we three kept the secret,
and how the poor girl put up with that
old woman's vagaries all the time Will
always be wonder to me
However, the time slipped away, and
the twenty-frst birthday came, and then,
by my advice, Hugh appeared at Nor
beck Hall, to greet his cousin and make
formal offer of his hand and heart, and
I need not tell you that she took him
then and there. You should have seen
she was going to have a fit, but she
OF abuse directed at Hugh, some flowers
of speech specially devoted to me, and a
general peroration relating to ingrati-
tude, conspiracy, and the like, she an
nounced her intention of washing her
hands of the whole affair and going back
to London as soon as all her boxes were
packed-and precious glad we all were,
| can tell you, when they were brought
down into the great hall ready corded
[ fancy she managed to feather her
nest pretty well during these two years
So, madam having taken herself off In
dudgeon, there was nothing left to hinder
and arrangements for the wedding were
set on foot at once. It was to be very
quiet little affair at my own little church
at Gilthwaite, and of course I was to
marry them. So as it would have been
too far for Lucy to drive in the morning,
and besides that, she could not well be
married from her own great lonely house,
we settled that [ should fetch her over on
the previous evening to sleep at the rec
tory, and that the wedding should take
place from thence. and now comes
the sad and strange part of the story.
It was early in February-just a week
after Candlemas, as [ remember only too
well-when I arrived, late in the gray
afternoon at Morbeck, where I was to
dine with my ward before we started for
Glithwaite rectory. The winter had
been an unusually severe one, even for
these parts; but in the last days of Janu-
airy the frost had broken up, and it
SSOUuOu DIS Ii Jul Oll IOIGu-COluUIy SdS1ug
as to a wet Candlemas was to be carried out
for ever since the End, when it had been
more constant downpour, there had
been q succession of mild, muggy days,
with an overcast sky and an incessant
drizzle. AS the carriage that had been
sent to fetch me drove up the avenue in
the falling light of the afternoon, there
was something In the air that seemed to
weigh ones heart down; cool, dank
smell rose up from the earth where last
years leaves lay rotting under the bare
branches that dripped slowly as the
thick mist crept and chung around them.
But the feeling of depression passed
away as we drew up at the open hall
door, from which the rudy glow of
great fire streamed out into the dim air,
and Lucy, looking lovelier than ever,
with plaid thrown over her golden
hair, came running down the steps to
open the carriage door herself, and as
she fiI1Dp her arms around NV neck her