Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-02-17

"OnI Grandmother, please, please let
me stay all night"
'1Her visit, madam, if she returns to
tea viii be the shortest Of calls; it is now
after o'clock
Mrs. Beltham had her own reasons for
wanting to preserve friendly relations
with her visitor, but she knew Charities
lawless tongue. and deprecated a long
evening spent by her uncle's free and
easy fireside. She considered a moment,
then said:
'My dear Charlie has been looking pale
of late, and l fear the change of Sleep
ing rooms will not be just good for her"
''She does look pale, madam. 1t is, /
am sure, the result Of her close c0nfine-
ment inside of the house. l trust you
will agree with me that a change now is
the needful thing, not to speak again of
my fathers longing TO see her."
These words were spoken cOurteOusly,
but Mrs. Beltham saw plainly that a stub
born refusal would be hard to sustain.
and so, taking all the grace of yielding
that she could, she said, smiling indul-
gently:
1T is so hard to refuse her anything,
sir. SO very hard! that l fear my judg-
ment yields too often to my tenderness.
Go and get ready, dear"
But Charlie had gone at the first favora-
bic symptom, and was out of hearing.
''She is still, as you see, Sir, only an inn
pulsiYe child, not very easy to manage;
but | trust my patience and perseverance
Will one day be rewarded in her develop
ing a complete and lady-like department.
She is truly unfortunate in her temper,
but her heart, l trust, is right. Her late
father was often unhappy about her, and
regretted profoundly her Willfulness, but
to him, as to us all, she was very dear. For
tunately, her guardian understands her
thoroughly, and, though he is my son, |
must say she is singularly fortunate in
being placed under his judicious care"
Mr.. Fearne could only bow his acquies-
cence in these facts. He felt somehow
strangely resentful, not only of the lady's
words. but at the assumption of entire
possession they indicated. Charlie, the
brightest and faultiest, as she certainly
was, the most interesting girl he had
ever seen, seemed given over, body and
soul, to these strangers, without leaving
HIM the power to say yea or nay. 1t
seemed this afternoon a thing hard to be
borne. He thought that if he had returned
to his own country few months earlier,
and had eXerted himself to attain it, he
might to-day have stood in the very enVi-
able position of guardian and friend.
These thoughts made his looks grave,
his words few. He felt irritable and
cross, but his courteous manner gave lit
tie token Of all this. He only appeared
to listen attentively, and TO acquiesce pO-
litely IN Mrs. Betham's smooth utter
ances; and she, nothing 10th, to enter
tain so good a listener, went calmly on:
Il have had entire charge of Charlie as
you may know, sir, for years. Mrs. Bar
rett has been constantly absent with her
husband in Washington, and so, on me,
has devOlved the responsibility Of Why!
Charlie, you certainly don't propose 60
ing out without your yeil~
The girl has interrupted her grand
mothers flow OF words by making a sud-
den entrance with her hat and gloves on.
and otherwise completely ready, as she
supposed.
at is warm this afternoon, grandmoth
er, and
''Charlie, 1 cannot, and VIII not permit
you to do an indecorous thing at this time;
go back and get your veil"
With an impatient Shrug OF her
shoulders she ran upstairs and soon re-
turned with the essential article Mrs.
Beltham arranged it around her hat and
/ enVeloped her face after the latest and
most approved style, and Mr.. Fearne,
controlling his Impotence with a cOnsd-
cradle effort, babe his hostess a courteous
''gOOd evening"" and took Charlie off.
Not word did he speak until they had
! gotten entirely out of sight of the house,
when, turning to his wondering cOmpan-
ion he said:
Charlie, take off that veil and give it
to me.'
ooh! butt she said, doubtfully.
'sGiVe it to me -
She Obeyed with a mischieyOus enjoy
/ ment of his mood, removing one, two,
three, four black pins before She could ex-
/ tricate herself then handed him the Of
/ Tending article very Obediently. He took
/ it, and folding it into a marvelously
| small compass, deposited it in his coat
| pocket.
''There'' he said, little savagely, ''that
| won't be troublesome now"
! Charlie was simply delighted. She en-
4 ioyed having grandmother so quickly
checkmated, and she enjoyed her grave
! Cousins anger.
you've got temper, too, haven't you,
| sirT' she said.
Eyes, certainly have" he answered,
not smiling even yet. Il have been in a
sort of rage for the last ten minutes"
did grandmother try your"
| "Yes; to the point OF white heat"
''She has considerable talent that way.
! You don't realize it fully unless you live
| with her constantly"
These words, of course, were spoken
merrily enough. Charlie was neither sad
| nor troubled. She was outside of the
house and going to see uncle Henry, and
she felt radiant. But the man at her
side looked down at her with more tender
ness than he knew he was feeling. He
| felt belligerent to-day; like taking her
| forcibly away from the atmosphere of de-
ceit and pretence in which she lived, and
fighting for his authority to do it. He be-
| lieved he was only feeling the generous de-
sire of the strong to protect the weak, and
| hardly realized what close, cOusinly
and personal regard he had grown to feel
| for the pretty, willful girl who walked at
his side, so Indifferent and so careless of
him and everybody else.
Charlie" he said, at last, 81 wonder
what Mrs. Beltham would take for her
share in you"
Il don't understand" she said, looking
! puzzled.
81 mean, wonder what she would take
| for her right to snub, and thWart, and
control, and govern you.'
Nothing in the world; she wouldn't
part with it on any terms. 1t is the
very stimulant she needs. 1t is a sort of
elixir of life for her. Take it away and
she would grow thin and weak, sad and
| listless. 1t has kept her spirits up these
many years, and has become a sort of
! profession for her. Why do you ask,
sir? Do YOU want to buy her OutE'
By this time Mr.. Fearne, scientist,
scholar and philosopher, had learned
| somewhat of his young cousin. In the
last few weeks he had discovered that she
! was Independent, fearless, bright, spoiled
and saucy; but now, knowing as he was,
she took him by surprise. Her quick,
| careless question touched a point in his
consciousness he had never dared look at
himself. He had known few girls; never
one like Charlie. These others had all
been brought up in the same school; were
pretty, gentle, irresponsible, lady-like
creatures, with no especial point
and no especial burden of soul
about them; only correct, conventional
and cool; so that this girl, as natural as a
! fve-year-old child, and as impulsive, with
fresh, womanly beauty he had never seen
| equaled, was a revelation to him. He had
thought of her almost every moment since
he saw her first, as rare new species of
a genus he believed he had studied well
before; thought of her critically and
scientifically, and, Of late, pityingly. If
there had come a strange new element
into his study of her, he did not know it.
| Its growth had been too subtle, its culture
too insensible to realize even its presence,
and when, turning on him pair Of great
and glorious eyes, she had for pure mis-
chief asked her pert question, he felt that
to his tenderest consciousness there had
been thrown keen, bright ray of light.
showing to himself the only seer, a some
thing marYelOusly strange and sweet and