The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1883-11-10

nau the stream on their left, nfteT
which they began to drive down hill,
and presently turned in III some iron
gates, whose stone pillars were NESS
grown, and which were also at the left
hand of the road down dark, damp
kind Of drive, into a garden which,
despite the radiant sunshine of the
afternoon, was dull, and up to an old
house, the approach TO which struck
Margaret as being the strangest she
had ever seen. After driving for some
distance down the dark drive already
alluded TO-. under thick avenue of
elms, almost funereal in the shade they
gave, they suddenly emerged from this
avenue, and Margaret perceived that
the drive proceeded over stout stone
bridge, crossing the river, which ran
through the grounds of the place.
Then up a hill again, the slope of
which was laid out in terraces, leading
gradually to the top, where was situ-
ated fine old house. 1t was of the
Elizabethan style of architecture, and
stood proudly on the top of the little
hill, so that Margaret understood that
from its windows one must look
straight down into the rushing stream,
and upon the tops of the avenue trees.
Most likely there would be, from the
upper windows, at least, view of the
sea.
OF course, she observed all these
things, and thought all these thoughts,
in much shorter space of time than it
has taken me to write them down.
Despite the beauty of the scene despite
the quaintness and almost grandeur of
that fine old house; despite her own
buoyant nature, and the keen interest
she felt in all around her, Margarets
chief sensation was a chilly one, re-
sembling foreboding depression,
which seemed to close around her as
she entered the place. With all its
beauty, it was so still-almost weirdly
still-the muifled rushing of the stream
in its deep bed being almost the only
sound. 1t gave her the impression of
being uncanny.
But before she had time to do more
than realize this sensation the bridge
had been crossed, ("that's my Rubi-
con-" she thought, with half smile;
81 wonder if it really is'), the hill
climbed, and the carriage stood before
the entrance, at the side of the house.
Margaret got out of the carriage and
followed the man who opened the door
to her through the hall-a charming old
hall, with treasures of richly colOred
old china and old oak, and grave old
pictures of sober old ancestors. Then
the servant opened door and usheKed
her into a room, by the name which
was not hers, and again she uncomfcrt-
ably wished that she had not consented
to use that deception. Unwillingly, she
recalled Laura 5 words: "You are sac
rificing your own dignity" Then she
forcibly put back these mental discom-
forts and entered.
A pale lady, at whose feet girl ia a
white dress was seated, rose; q lady
with slight and dropping figure. Iier
! dark hair was as yet untouched by any
white streaks. She looked excessively
delicate and fragile. Her dress, of tho
softest, richest, golden-brown silk, wa1
made very plainly, but her lace collar
and cuffs were old, delicate and costly.
| On her shoulders was a shawl Of
creamy-looking embroidered crepe, and
on her head a small white lace cap,
with lappets which fell behind. Mar
garet, accustomed for too long to Mrs.
Pierce's off-hand ways, loud laughs.
broad Jokes and bluff .'frisky matron"
style in general, nevertheless knew liz
an instant that this lady-this Mrs.
Lascelles, with her fragile refinement
was more one of her own kind, was
more a woman after her own heart than
fifty Mrs. Pierces. She forgot to look
at the girl, who must be one OF her
future pupils. She looked at the lady,
who held out delicate, white, invalid's
hand, sparkling with costly rings, and
said:
Il am happy to see you, Mrs. Perez.
val. l hope you have had a pleasant
journey"
Very. thank you,' replied Mar
garet, blushing all over her beautiful
face, as the soft, pathetic, dark eyes Of
Mrs. Lascelles rested upon her. This
woman, she felt, must have known
trouble = it had scanned those lines
in her brow, and given that sorrowful
curve to her lips. She must, thought
Margaret, have always been a slender,
pensive, frail-looking creature. She
was ignorant what wrecks Time can
make of us all.
at is beautiful Journey" Margaret
continued, II had never been in this
part of the country before, and l thought
it very fine"
Eyes, it is. We are proud of our
beautiful views all about here. But you
come from Irkford. That is a long
way, and | am sure you must be tired.
Would you not like to take off yom
things before-or, here is tea. Suppose
you have Il cup before you 60 upstairs.
1t will refresh YOU"
TO BE CONTINUED.