The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1881-01-13

|
Mr.. Warden smiled gravely and patted
Janets white hand as she placed it
caressingly on his shoulder. Then he
said, slowly.
Coming TO see me, is he7 Well,
dear, must talk about it to him. Now
you must go to bed-it must be late, and
l want to think. Goodnight, my dear
goodnight"
Janet pressed her lips to her faOher's
wrinkled forehead with moro tenderness
than usual. She, who was accustomed
to his quiet, studious manner, knew that
he had been shaken by what she had
told him, and that he wished to be
alone. so she crept away to her cham.
ber, fitting thI ough the dark passages
and echoing galleries like some fair
spirit, and fell to sleep on her pillows,
the image of life, youth and hope, in the
midst of decaying age and forgotten
grandeur.
1t was the week before Janet's mar
riage, and in the old picture gallery,
standing where the sunlight fell upon
| them, were Janet and her betrothed.
Hither her father often came at night,
| candle in hand, to gaze on those who
had gone before him, drawing aside the
vail that covered the face of his i'll
starred brother George.
! The portraits on the walls looked
down upon them as if scandalized at
what they saw, for Henry was standing
with his arm round Janet's waist, ~
the Girl had raised her fair face to the
| handsome one above her.
Ore old painting in particular of Sir
| George Warden, Janet's great grand
| father, seemed to trown darkly at the
audacious couple who dared to intrude
upon tue privacy of himself and his
companions thus-while on the other
side OF tie gallery fair young girl, in
laced bodice and powdered hair, seemed
! by the sweet smile upon her painful
face to sympaihize with the lovers.
my dearest Janet" said Mr.. Wood,
81 really cannot permit you to talk like
this. Long before knew you or had
seen your face / had heard of White
| brook Manor and its master and mis-
tress. My mother has often told me of
The friendship that had existed etween
my grandfather and your mother, and
have seen her lament over the change
| brought about in the Warden family.
But, Janet, saw you-and then-then
you know what happened. ! VOW,
Janet, if you were worth thirty thou
sand dollars year, your face would
seem no fairer, your heart no purer, in
my sight. Will. vol not, can you not,
believe me when / repeat love you for
yourself, and that your weight in gold
would not enhance your value in my
opinion, whatever it may in other
peoples P"
L" 1t is so good, so kind OF you to say
| so, HenTym said Janet, tearfully. "And
[ believe what you say, indeed l do {;
out--but my father is so grieved when
| ne thinks he has TO give you portion
| es5 wife that it makes me grieve, too "
"Then grieve no more, my darling;
or ii you do, l will what shall l
hreatep you witbP All, know. I'll
/ run away with you, and then you shall
nave no grand wedding, as my mother
| insists upon"
Janet laughed.
"Oh, Hrnry, as if / cared for that
But what was it you wished me to tell
YOU last nightP You 81 id before you
vent away you would come this morn
| ing to hear"
Henry Wood drew her toward the
| broad window-seat near them, and his
face grew graver.
| Janet, dear, | want you to tell me
| how your grandfather managed 10 10 c
! his fortune as he did, and how your
| father has never been able to retrieve it.
Are Won vexed at my questioning?"
| "Oh, Henry, nc! But it is Sc sdd--so
very sad However, l will tell you as
well as | can. Listen, then. You know
| for years, owing to the reckless way in
which my grcat-erandfather spent his
money, the estate became inv olved, and
when his eldest son came to be master
of the manor he found himself in great
| difficu ties.
However, he worked we'll and hard.
| stinting himself to give his children q
good education and pay off the mort
cages, so that, at last, the estate was
| Tree. But all this time the house had
been becoming very much as it is now,
and then fresh troubles came.
My Uncle Marmaduke Gied of con-
sumption, and Aunt Jane ran away to
be married she died n long time ago, I
know, for her husband treated her very
cruelty. Then Uncle George was very
wild, ard spent great deal of money,
till at last grandpapa said he should
have no more; and then tor some years
poor grandmamma's mind had become
weaker and weaker with all these
troubles; she could not bear them so well
|
were all sitting in the oak parlor (my
father was abroad, you know), Uncle
George came in quite suddenly-for he
had been in LondOn-and whispered to
grandmsmma. She was more fond of
| him than any of the others, you know,
and so no one was surprised when she
| got up and went out with him. But
| everybody was mortified few minutes
afterward to hear dreadful scream, and
rushing OUT they found grandmamma
insensibIe on the floor in the hall.
"Uncle George seemed half mad, for he
disappeared from the house in the midst
of all the confusion. They took grand
mamma to her room; but, though she
recovered from the swoon, she never re-
covered her senses, and they were
obliged to watch her day and night.
She talked necessarily of her George,
and ruin and duels, and said things no
one could understand.
One night her nurse t II asleep, and,
awakening in the middle of the night,
found her patient gone. She rushed out
of the room, and found grandmamma at
the bottom of the oak staircase in a
kind of swoou. She was taken back to
her bed, but she never spoke again, and
died two days alterward. Curiously
enough, on looking for her dressing case
some days atterward, my grandfather
could not find il. Search was made
everywhere, but in vain. My father
said it was great pity, for it contained
most valuable jewels given to gran
mamma by her mother and grand
mother.
"Well, all these troubles broke grand.
papa's heart, and he died. My father
then married mamma-who, you know,