The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1881-08-17
AFTER LONG YEARs.

- ~
This IS the mortgage an estate
called the Derby Place. ID. Faxon,
foreelosed more than a ear, l be.
liese,n
@Well, it's what I've been looking
for. i will take charge Of the pa
persiand attend.to the matter soon.
Down East, isn't it?o
"Yes, sir"
Mr.. Faxon put the papers into the
breast pocket of his coal, came down
the office stairs and stepped into the
glittering, purple lined phaeton be.
side his wife.
The delicate Arabian. Mrs, Fax
on's horse, sped away out of the city
confines, and soon tossed his jetty
MAJ name e. along the open rosass lined
with gardens, ornate cottages and
villas.
"Going away tomorrow, dearRr
asked Mrs. Faxon, suddenly lifting
her fair countenance, as she inter.
rnpted her husband. "Yon seem to
be away all the time lately. Fake
me with you"
"Not this time, Violet"
And Violet Faxon's husband fell
into fit of abstraction, from which
the smartest chatter failed to arouse
him.
They came at last to the Faxon
mansion, grand and simple, and full
filling the promise Of beautiful in.
terror.
And amidst the white lace and
crimson silk of her chamber, Violet
was brushing out her long fair hair,
when her husband paused in the
doorway, and looked at her sharply.
Then he came slowly across the
room, and lifting the oval face in his
hand, looked closely ut the roseate
cheek, pearly ear, and curved eye
lashes.
"What is it?" asked Violet; a
freckle?"
"No," he answered, smiling faint
ly and stepping across the chamber.
"Yeu looked like my sister, then
that was all.
"Your sister, dear? You never
told me about her."
"No," he answered, and said no
more.
Mr.. Faxon bore no resemblance to
.lhiy-ssliisassp ivan ,yifvszeA little
less than thirty--dark, strongly
built, active, vigorous, he impressed
one as a strong character. If, with
a remarkable rich comeliness Of
countenance, there were some sens
nal lines, there was also certain
evidence of strong, good sense, and u
look of deep experiences. Mr.. Fax
on looked like q man who carried
weight.
lie was up and away at daybreak
the next day. An early train bore
him eastward, and nine o'clock found
him landed alta little station called
SeabroOk.
The dismal little building was set
in field Of clover, around which n
road wound away among the mounds
of verdure.
After glance around, Mr.. Faxon
took this road, and walked slowly
along. The robins hoped across it;
the bobolinks sang in the trees over
It, The unassuming white clover
among the grass perfumed the cool
morning air.
He passed only a few houses, but
he observed them attentively. They
were all old and humble farm houses.
Apparently this property, which had
by the foreclosure Of a mortgage fall.
en- to Mr.. Faxon, was not situated
In very rich or enterprising neigh
bOrhood.
When he had walked nearly a
mile he came to green door.yard,
among widespread apple-trees, with
well sweep among them, and a res
ldence, though plain, more preten-
tious and more comfortable than the
others.
There was narrow, and we'll
worn path among the short grass and
butter'cups to the porch, where q
bitter-sweet twined its strong arms.
In a corner, under the verdure, was
an arm chair, with book on the