The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1882-03-04

quite silent and strange-like in minute,
and turn off the subject as If it burned
her. Perhaps for all she's so merry on
the outside she's fretting for him that's
4 gone, and can't bear to talk of him. :
4 Nothing of that sorti" cried old John.
Don't you go to think such stuff. Shed
take o husband tomorrow, mark my
works. And it's my opinion there's 3
young gentleman comes to this house
that has fairish chance. He's desperate
sweet ON her. haven't eyes in my
head for nothing, and I see plain she
| doesn't dislike him, or hold herself up
distant from him as she does from
| others.
/ Old John was right. Matters were in
due time so satisfactorily settled between
the young couple that an appeal to the
uncle was deemed expedient. The old
| gentleman received the announcement
with half pleased, half satiricaI
| grimace.
"Ha, thought SO r he muttered.
'.But are you aware, my friend, that
there is no money in the case The
lady hasn't a six pence, and
II know it, Indignantly interrupted
the suiter. You have made that re-
mark before I want no fortune with
my wife, my own being my love-,
'sOh, spare your raptures, young sir.
Not so fast Don't be too sure of the
prize; fof when you hear what / have
told you, there may be perhaps change
in your views. / have no time to go into
the matter now; come tomorrow and
hear what will surprise you;" and the
i old gentleman went off. nodding back
maneyolently, the lover fancied-over
his shoulder, and leaving the poor fell
low in state of uncomfortable suspense
and uncertainty.
What could this dark hint mean and
why was he not to make sure +? Could
it be possible there was any doubt, ANY
| mystery as TO the demise of the beloved
ones husband? He could not help call
ing to mind her confused and singular
manner at times; certain want Of frank
ness; an evident emb arrassment at any
illusion to the past. The possibility OF
an obstacle made the young man realize
as he had not before done, how deeply
his affections were engaged. He spent
o miserable night, awaiting in vain con-
lectures and sleepless anxiety the tidings
which the morrow might bring forth.
In order TO explain matters it will be
necessary to go back for some months
previous to the arrival of the young lady
at her uncle's house; as we'll as to
| change the scene from it to country
cottage in remote part of England
| the home of the widowed sister of the
| eccentric bachelor. In it we find him
| pacing up and down the drawing-room
and listening to the querulous COM
| plants that its occupant, confirmed
invalid, is uttering from the sofa on
which she lies. II think but little of
my bodily sufferings," she is saying;
s'they cannot now last long. Every day
feel more plainly that the end is not
| far off, and my doctor tells me the same.
The distress of mind that. torments me is
what is so hard to bear. I"
And what might this be about, if
might ask ~
''The future of my child when / am
gone. All / have, as you know, dies
with me. She will be penniless, and the
thought of what is to become of her, cast
on the world without a home, haunts me
night and day. It is too dreadful to
think. -
"a giri-and young-and not bad
looking. Where's the fear? Some
body'll be sure to marry her. Men are
such fools r
u
smile.
All, but there are no men, no fools
here In this remote corner we see no
one, and the poor child, so taken up
with nursing me and tied to q sick room,
has made no acquaintances. 1t is killing
me to see her young life sacrificed, and
to think of the future.
The mothers tears began to flow. Her
I, ii
ward the weaker sex, or at ease in its
company, increased his pacings
In much discontinue as these symptoms
of water works turned on became APP
parent. His hurried step soon subsided,
however, to n steady march up and down
the little drawing-room, while with frown-
ing brow and occasional chuckles, he
seemed to be coneocting some scheme.
After few minutes he came to sudden
halt before the invalid sofa.
s.Can the girl act 2" he asked, rather
abruptly.
.sAct? How do you mean? t.
'sOh, you needn't look frightened; I'm
not going to propose sending her to the
Gaiety or the Criterion
sWell, except in the little make-be-
lieve plays and dressings up that child
rem delight iD-all children are, think,
actors born" ('Ay, and men and
women, too, growied the cynic) Tex
cept she has never seen or had an oppor-
tunity of acting. Why do you ask %
And in reply her brother unfolded the
plan he had been concocting ng-namely,
that his niece, laying aside her "trip
perry and her trinkets and other girls
nonsense, was to put on the mourning
garb and act the part of q widow, in
which assumed character she was to
come and stay with him in his London
home.
ssBut can't understand
"And you're not wanted to under
stand, he snarled Its my whim; and
it may be for the girls advantage. If
she's willing and can hold her tongue, |
I'll come back for her when she's ready. |
And T II pay for her outfit. Grape and |
weepersl Ho, hor'
When her first surprise at her uncle's !
strange proposition was over, the young
girl jumped eagerly at the prospect of q |
change from the dull house she never |
yet had left. Shewas young and spirited; /
at an age when love for variety and o |
longing to see the world and plunge into
its unknown delights, are natural. The
playing the widow she thought would be |
excellent fun. There was spice of adj
venture in 1t, and it would be like the
private theatricals and acting charades
she had read of and imagined so pleasant.
The old gentleman's reason for wishing |
her to do SO was puzzle; but then who
could wonder at anything he did, absurd |
oddity that he was. Perhaps it was to |
avoid having to provide chaperon for |
her; he hated ladies so, and elder ones
The result of the scheme we have seen;
and the scheme itself was what its origi- I