Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1882-10-28

that.
Half an hour later old John Arch
er was electrified to feel Bella's arms
around his neck, her soft cheek laid
against bis stubby beard, and to hear
her whispering:
Grandfather, he does love mel
He has told me so-and has asked
me to be his wife.
The next morning was one of those
brilliant August days when the
leaves scarcely stir in the golden
rain of the sunshine, and the purple
hills seem outlined like crayon
sketches against the dazzling blue of
the horizon, and John was summing
himself on a wooden bench in front
of the house, when up trotted par
ty of gay young equestrians from the
Overlook House, ten miles away.
Can we get a glass of milk and
something to eat here ?n demanded
Clay Dallas, the forerunner of the
party, as he sprang from his high
melted grey horse.
John Archer shook his head grave
ly.
'This is not an inn, sir, said he.
mot an inn ? Why, there's the
sign swinging now," said the young
gentleman, pointing with one finger
up toward the warped and dilapida-
ted board, on which was painted in
letters well nigh washed out, the le-
gend, Entertainment for Man and
Beast"
EYES," said John, "there's the
sign, to be sure, just as it hung there
in my sons days. He kept here, but
| don't"
"How provoking !" said one of the
ladies. "And now we shall have to
ride on six miles further-and l am
so thirsty"
"Noneed of that, no need of that"
alertly interrupted the old man. "It
amt no inn, to be sure, but my
granddaughter, Bella, will be proud
to give you glass of milk and some
of her homemade gingerbread, if
you'll alight. Walk in, walk in"
He walked on in advance of them,
and Bella flushed and pretty, brought
out her pitcher of milk and brown
bread at once. But one of the
guests, a middle-aged gentleman,
quite bald, with shining black eyes,
like beads, walked straight past the
table to the chimney piece, where a
dark canvass hung, enclosed in a
cheap frame of painted pine.
"What's this ?" said he. "Eh ?
What's this ?"
And he lifted a pair of gold eye
glassesto his eyes and gazed intently.
"That ?" said John Archer, rather
depreciatingly. "Oh, that belongs
to our little Bella ! 1t amt worth
much to look at, l know, but she
thinks it's better than the blank
wall. It's laid up in the garrett these
years, and she brought it down last
spring. Granther, says she, 'it'll
just cover the stoye-pipe hole p"
"Where did you get it ?" asked
the gentleman
"There was an old furrin gentle
man died. here when my son Jake
kept tavern-died of typhoid fever
and he set a deal of store by it. 1t
was his wife, mebbe, or his mother,
that there woman with the child in
her arms. He had no relations as
ever any one heard Of. Jake buried
him, poor creeter, and there was the
end of it. But he lay and stared at
that pictur to the last, d mutterln'
his furrin lingo. Most likely it was
some relation of his'n."
mot exactly" said the dark gen.
tleman, with curious smile hover
ing around the corners of his lips,
"It's a Madonna-one Of Carlo Sfor-
ya's. DO you say it belongs to this
little girl ?"
Eyes, sir" said Bella, coloring
and casting down her eyes under the
dark lightning of his. "Father gave
it to me for my play house"
"What will you take for it ?"
Take for it? Take for that ugly
bit of black canvass that people had
almost grudged houseroom to ?n
Bella could hardly believe her ears.