The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1884-01-09

formed hundred plans which
thought would aid in crushing down
nay heart. l would travel; | would
trust to time; with seas and years
between us | would grow calner il
my feelings. | would come back
and find my happiness in Reginald's
and hers l would give them Ham
ilton Place for their wedding gift
and imagined myself in after years
| frelicking on those green terraces
with Regie's oldest or youngest, as
the case might be. But the fever
rose again, the longing was as strong
as it was vain. was not in the
frame of mind to meet nv nephew
and as soon as my roam was saddled
sprang to her back and was off
away-I cared not where, so | could
ride this madness down.
| came home late. The hardest
battle | had ever fought had won
| had such a grip on myself that
after seeing Bess comfortably sta.
bled and rubbed down, | went to
Regie's room without the least teal
of self betrayal.
But the lad was not there. A nott
sticking in the mirror frame attract
ed my attention. 1t was addressed
to me. 1t ran, with many blot
and erasure
DEAR OLD UNCLE 1t was all q
mistake. Josepha never really cared
two pins for me. That boy and CIR
affair wasn't love at all. She told
me so before, and | ought to have
known better than to go to her twice,
but you-there, | don't blame you
uncle. How should you know? She
was very kind, if you can call that
sort of thing kind, and | dare say
shall get over it. But I'm awfully
cut up, and / don't feel as if | could
face even you, just yet; SO I'm of
without waiting for you
a line or two more SO badly blur
red as to be illegible, and a great
scrawl which bore but faint resem.
Dlance to Reg.
Poor lad Poor lad He tried hard
to be CHEEKY in the farewell letter be
sent before he left the shores of old
England, but saw the heartache be
tween the lines.
In few days I was called sud
denly to London on business, being
| detained there some little time
When | returned to Deerwood it was
to find my erratic young neighbol
flown. Mrs. Harwood. my estima,
bic housekeeper, had a message for
me from Miss Hamilton-'she would
write regularly, but | was not to
seek her out.
Having delivered the message with
a dignified air, slightly damaged by
| the curious, speculative glance with
which she regarded me the while
Mrs. Harwood rustled majestically
away, giving vicious little jerk to
the door knob, as much as to say
We'll, there, He might a. said more
than %, indeed Just as if didn't
know she'd gone off a-governessin'
But men is so clus mouthed.'
AS went into the garden for q
quiet smoke | heard the housekeepel
address the housemaid
Mary, run with all your might
now and tell the cook Majors back
again. Yes, l gave him the message
Surprised? ? You never know wheth-
er e is or e isn't. But lawk, Mary
think o tellin' i'm, the Major, not to
seek out 'er, which as gone to be a
governess y
An after 'er packin' off Mr.. Regi-
nald, the stuck up piece, said Mary
who had a sweetheart of her own she
thought the world OF.
The weeks slipped into months,
and the months numbered eighteen
before | saw Josepha again.
She was III and wrote for me to
come to her. No. 6, Beverly Square,
was the address, and the neighbor
hood vas most aristocratic. No. 6
was an imposing stone house OF the
mausoleum type. In answer to my
ring there appeared an undersized
footman whose gravity of demeanor
carried out the funeral idea suggest
ed by the house itself. Untold mil
lions could not have tempted him to
smile.
He went off with my card, and by
and by Josepha-sr her ghost
trailed down the stairs. To give you
an idea of how weak she was, let me
tell you there were two tears in her
eyes when | took her hand. jose
pha, and Josepha reduced to wo-
manly tears. 1t was difficult to rec
ognize the two.
l saw my chance and took advant-
age oft. Now, while she was unfit
for work, homesick and needing a
change, she must make Deerwood a
visit. Mrs. Harwood knew how to
make my guests comfortable, and
nothing would suit me better.
| listened to no remonstrance, and
when she half consented | put ar
end to the last but with sly hint
that she had betterimprove the pres
ent opportunity to visit her old
home, for the old gentleman who
had bought it intended to dispose of
it soon
| bore Josepha away on the five
O'Clock train, much to the disgust of
my lady, who was losing govern
ess such as Beverly Square should
not soon again see.
The quiet and the change did
wsrk wonderful change. Josepha
in a fortnight was almost herself
again, and queened it over me in her
own delightful way.
She began to talk of going back to
London again, and one afternoon
asked for the keys to the Hamilton
Place.
/ had made my plans to hoad her
off, but this time | sent no kilograms.
| simply waited until the afternoon
sun was low: and then l followed
her
I found her, as l knew | should,
before her fathers portrait. Her
head was thrown back, her face up
lifted, her hands clasped behind
her