Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1882-01-12
RIzVIILE. S. O., JANUARY 10, 1882.

| path across the meadows that led up from
Bythorpe village to Bythorpe Manor, but al
the entrance gate he paused and gazed will
tender eyes at the little house on the opposite
side of the road that exactly faced him-tht
little creeper covered cottage where the doc
step toward it but 'No," he murmured
''she comes first. We will 60 there together ,
But still he fingered, as if longing to pierce
the mystery of those drawn blinds, and ever
as he thus paused there was the sound OF
horses feet and there came in view down the
narrow street carriage drawn by two very
| fine cheStnuts.
Before it the village children fell hastily
back, and, standing on one side, gazed with
mingled awe and admiration. And assuredly
it was sight to call forth admiration, for ev-
erything seemed so perfect ; the carriage it.
self, the prancing horses, the fair-haired girl,
so like the young, lovely mother by whose side
she sat, the two little golden-headed children
opposite. There was surely no fault to be
found anywhere.
Only, to wayfarer standing by the road
side gazing at them, the sun seemed of a sud-
den to be darkened in heaven, the earth to
have lost the beauty of a summers morn.
''IIelen ~ he cried, in tones of anguish
wrung from a breaking heart, but she did not
hear.
She saw him, of course, for she was looking
at him, wondering, may be, who this stranger
was in familiar little Bythorpe. But that
was all. The dust from the carriage wheels
made thick the air for a moment, and when 1t
cleared away the vision had vanished
''Who is it 20 he questioned when he could
command his voice, turning to villager
standing by his side.
"Yon lady? Lady Edmeade. She's goin'
to London. She was a daughter of the old
squire's" he added, ''and married Sir Wilfred
Edmeade.''
elias she been long married 20
''Let us see now. Twill be fourteen years
come August, for the same day, I mind we'll,
as my Youngest was born. Eth, but she has
bonnie children" he murmured as he turned
away.
And Robert Sutton found himself alone in
the bright early sun, scarcely four hours since
he saw it rise for what was to have been the
happiest day of his life, and already the end
had come. lie waited thus, reviewing this
ending of his romance, for few seconds think
ing of the smny-haired, broken hearted girl
who had clung to him these long, long years
ago, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
ri believe in you, Robert. Whatever the
world may say believe in you. Only swear
to me that you will credit nothing against me
that you may hear, for will be true to you.
And oh, Robert, directly you are free, come
straight to me. l will wait though it be for
years ~
And he had kissed her and sworn it. Now
the oath was fulilled-his part of it at least !;
he had come back.
Then, those few brief seconds over, he CROSS
ed the little dusty road, passed the village
school, whence issued the sound of many chill
dren's voices singing the morning hymn, and
entered the low cottage opposite, and knelt
with great fearless sob at the feet of al old
blind woman, who, putting out a withered
hand and stroking softly the curls so thickly
strewn with gray, murmured-
''My son, my son! Have you come then, at
last ? All it has been weary waiting but [
lived on, for knew that the truth must be
known some day, and that then you would
come home"