The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1881-11-01

the main street Of the village out about
half mile aud you will come to q
patch of woods, with bars ut the fence.
Go through them bars u little way
further on, and yen see little yaller
house, just the last place In the world
where you'd expect TO see n house,.
That's where Mrs. Matteson lives"
thanked my informant aud set out
on brisk walk carrying my travelling
bag. 1t was quite n distance ERE I
emerged from the suburbs of the main
street, into quiet and secluded road, or
rather lane. The "patch o. woods''
with the bars, and the "little yaler
house''-a cream ooored cottage, literal
ly overgrown with honey suckles-re-
warded my search, aud as j knocked at
the door, clock somewhere inside
struck seven.
A decent looking, elderly woman in
widows weeds came to the door.
Is Mr.. Matteson is Mr.. Perley ?"
mo-" she answered quickly, with,
as imagined, rather confused look
/ did not believe her, and asked quietly:
"When do you expect him homeY"
mot at present"
Apparently she expected me to go
away, but instead / stepped in.
Mother" asked soft voice at the
head of the stairs, "who Is IL ~
And then for the first time became
aware that some one had been watching
our colloquy from the head of the stairs
"a young girl, dressed like the mother
in deep black, with very brilllant eyes,
and profusion of jet black ringlets.
"Some one to see your brother"
She came half way down the stairs,
pushing back her curs with one hand,
and looking at me with wonderful eyes.
Even then her beauty struck me as l
stood gazing at her.
"Pearly is not at home" she sal hur-
riedly. "He has gone away. We do
not know when he will return"
Evidently this mother and daughter
were in the secret of Matteson's villainy
and doing their best to screen him from
its consequences. My heart bled for
them both but 1t was no time to indulge
in sentimental pity. Speaking as brief
ly as / could told them that it was my
duty to compel them to remain where
they were while searched the house.
Mrs. Matteson sat down, pale and
trembling /; her daughter colored high.
Mother" she said, "why do you
stand by and listen to such ISLANDERS
1t is false Let this man search the
house If he will my brother is as in
nocent as L am
No opposition was offered to my
search. 1t was entirely fruitless, how
ever-there was no trace of the flown
bird. Nevertheless, concluded to re-
main there quietly for day or two, to
see what little waiting might bring
forth.
The same afternoon Clara Matteson
came in, as L sat by the piazza window,
keeping quiet watch on all the sur
roundings.
"Mr. Meredith she said, softly,
'mother thinks L have been rude to
you. She says it was not your fault per-
sonally, that you were sent here-on
such mistake and perhaps she is right.
am very sorry If L hurt your feel
ings."
The pretty penitent way in which she
spoke quite won my heart, and a few
| questions on my part seemed to unlock
| the hidden recesses of her confidence
She talked at first shyly, and afterwards
with more assurance of herself, her
absent brother, and her mother, giving
me thousand artless little family de-
tails which almost dreaded to hear
The twilight talk was one of the pleas
antest episodes of my by no means uni
versally pleasant life, and was consid-
erably annoyed when it was broken in
upon by the arrival of the Drownville
constables who were to watch through
the night. At the sound of their foot
steps on the piazza floor, Clara rose up
and sat down again, confused and fright
ened.
ooh, Mr.. Meredith-thosem en-"
"Be easy, Miss Matteson," said
"you shall not be annoyed by them
Your privacy shall not be broken in
upon, believe me-"
81 know am silly" faltered Clara,
"but oh it seems so dreadful ~
My orders to the men were brief and
succinct. stationed them as seemed
best to me, and then returned to spend
the evening with Miss Matteson. And
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