Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1883-12-04
Gales arsn Skeifkfs.
yrrrI. DUyKAYyE.
BIZ NARY CECIL HAY.

A little old-fashioned chamber. and .
little old fashioned occupant; prim. tiny
room. full OF quaint treasures and fanciful,
questionable ideas. A head which the
May moonlight touched rather sadly when
Nellie raised up the blind and looked up
up beyond the unmoved white blinds
opposite; no beyond the tiles. white and
wet on which the moon glistened; up be-
yond the pale. pure moon itself. searching
the line Of sky which hung above the
narrow street. Perhaps the wistful eyes
could read no answer there to the one
great question which troubled them, for,
when Nettie drew the blind again, linger-
inglv, there was q great seriousness on
her small face.
She moved her dressing-table back into
its place before the window, lighted her
candle again. and Standing at her high,
narrow chest OF drawers. opened little
desk that stood there. Each thing had to
be taken out separately. that il might be
put in neatly afterward; first the beaded
pen-wiper Gall the ink-stains on which
we're confined to the black cloth, the scar
let being dazzling and uDspotted): then
the little case that had Postage stamps"
worked deliberately in the centre. and con-
tanned one stamp; then the Hat bag OF
white silk with answered" embroidered
IN black ON one side, where lay four let
tiers, neither crumpled. nor yellow. nor
worn, yet within six years as old as the
girl who handled them so tenderly; then
another bag. Of black silk. this labelled
"Cnar swred, Yin white letters; and Net
tie drew from it the one letter il contained.
1t was only single sheet of note paper.
barely filled. but she fingered a long time
while reading it ;perhaps because she was
not accustomed TO skim over delicate.
lady-lik epistles; perhaps because the
tender, affectionate terms were new and
delicious to her, who never found them
now but in those four letters Der mother
had written TO her 10 years before; per-
haps because she was trying to read in
the straight black lines. as she had tried
10 read in the glimpse OF mOOnlit heaven,
an answer to the doubt which puzzled
her.
After she had finished, Nettie turned
back and, almost unconsciously, read the
last leaf aloud to herself:
las tell you. dear, should have
urged all this before but | waited until
you should be of age. and able to decide
for yourself. Now you will come to US
at once; we are waiting and longing to
welcome you, Nettie, my child. Your
cousin. Graham, who has not very much
to do here at home. and is glad of an ex-
cuse for journey to town. will bring you.
Do not write any scruples. tor cannot
read them. DO you think your mother
would have countenanced the life you
lead? | do not hesitate to say
this, for Mr. Dunkayne has for
Ill Ia;, nd 1ouQ
do not care even to remember that he
Is your father. Nettie. dear; I merely
know that by his conduct you are living a
wretched lite; that nearly all he earns
he spends upon his own dissolute pleas
ures, and that any day his employers may
weary of his carelessness. and you may
be homeless and penniless. l know that
on rare occasions when he is at home he
is hardly a fit companion for you. My
dear. is this the kind of life you can bear
to think your mother looks upon know
her wish would be that you should come
to me. NV heart bleeds for you. my poor
little lonely child. and can feel how she
would rejoice to see you here at Burnside
with us. Who so proper to be your moth
err now. Nettie, as your mothers
only sister? Come and be daughter to
me. and a sister to Graham, the only
cousin you have in the world; and in ST.
doing you probably do the only good in
your power to that man whom | am
ashamed to call your father. Remember
that any scruples you may urge l shall
look upon as insults to your mothers
memory. am ever, dear little Nettie,
Your affectionate aunt,
ELLEN LYTTLETON."
The silence in the room after Nettie
had read these words aloud to herself,
seemed long; then the candle was snuffed
with quick, res,lute little hand. and
Nettie. still standing against the high
drawers. began to write the fifth answer
she had already composed to this letter.
This one should be posted; this should be
the real one; but how hard 1t was to
know exactly what to say!
She wrote slowly and carefully to say
that she could not go: for her first duty
was to her father. Who was to live with
him and care for him if his own daughter
left him? Whose duty or pleasure (put
in with little gulp) ought it to be, if not
her ownp She signed her name with
many words of love and gratitude. read
the letter over and over again. folded.
sealed. and addressed it; put on the one
stamp out of the perforated case. then lay
down in bed and tried to think of total
vacuum. Trying to think, of nothing. OF
course. was the very way to think of every
thing. and the puzzled little head upon
the pillow was as far from sleep "a the
thoughts were from vacuty. when the en-
trance bell shook with peremptory. i'm
patient pull. Nettie sprang out of bed
and slipped on her dress with nervous,
hurried fingers; than ran noiselessly down
stairs and opened the door. just as another
appeal startled the silence.
Have you kept me long enough, do
you think was the sneering greeting tina,
awaited her as her father passed in, stead
ing his steps with difficulty.
Such slouching. piliful figure, despite
its height and good proportions-such a
mean. unmanly face. despite its regular
features and soft gray hair-that it did
well to hasten out of the pure moonlight
into the gloom Of the unlighted house!
"You told me never again to SIT up for
you, father" said Nettie, as she boiled
ard locked the door. You took your
latch-key."
Il did not" he retorted. fumbling in his
pocket.
You said you would" she answered.