The Penn's Grove record., 1884-05-24
OUT OF PITY.

She was just II; the very youngest
little bride that any n remembered
ever coming to reign at Arntown
Towers; the sweetest daintiest little
Lady Fielding that the country had
ever welcomed.
To herself it was like a dream, it had
come so fast; it seemed as if all her life
had lived itself in those six months, the
leaving her English school and going
out to her fathers plantations in Ceylon,
80 proud to be his housekeeper and COM
panion; the strange brief life ON the up
country coffee estate. Then the young
English stranger who passed through
Lindoola, in his rather vague wander
ings for adventures sake, and who was
received at Holme Harcourt with the
delightful open-handed hospitality of
the colonies.
And then the awful night when the
sudden terrible stroke of cholera left
her fatherless, and life seemed a great
black void; and the chaplain's wife bad
OCcl SOOu W bClY anu hCpU LiCA llOL1 Wy
ing in despair; AMI Sir Harry Fielding
had been still more good; aud then
she wa resting her poor little orphaned
head on "a heart that was kind and true
as her own fathers and a strong arm
was close around her slender waist, and
the voice she liked alone to hear, of all
the voices around her, was telling her
she should never know another sorrow
he could guard her from. He seemed
the only real thing in all that dream
time; the sad past, and the present that
was SO happy, but just as unlike reality.
Was 1t really herself simply little Nesta
Harcourt, that people were fussing over
and petting and welcoming home as if
she had been a royal princess?
Perhaps it was as well she could not
realize it, or her head might have been
turned. Why, had not the whole week
Harry and she were spending with her
sister, Mrs. Mostyn, to present Nesta to
the countryside, been one round of fes-
t~ivities, of which she was the Queen.
This evening they had all driven to a
grand concert in the country town to
hear a famous singer; and Nesta, in her
wonderful golden satin gown, rich with
embroidery and lace, with her eyes out
shining the diamonds on her white neck.
and her cheek flushed with it's pretty
shy pink, had been an attraction only
second to the queen of song herself.
She felt a little weary with the excite
ment and the happiness, now that they
had reached home and were having
supper in the great hall for the concert
had forced them to dine rather earlier
than usual.
The house was crowded with guests,
and they were all vehemently declaring
that the night was hardly begun yet,
and they meant to finish it, with a few
games. The furniture in the blue
drawing-room was being hastily moved,
and Nesta's heart sank at the thought
of further exertion, her head ached and
she was worn out. She would slip
away quietly to bed, and leave Harry
to make her excuses to Eleanor. Where
was HAIRY, by the way? She had not
seen him since they sat down to supper,
and he and that beautiful Miss Tafford
were talking in the doorway. A hasty
search through the nearest rooms had
no result, and Nesta stopped by an open
door to glance in at the half cleared
d-rawing-room.
Two portly dowagers were deeply in
conversation, their heads bent together
behind their fans; but their voices rose
above the music Eleanor was playing,
and Nesta could not help hearing what
they said.
"Gladys Trafford; yes, indeedl" cried
the black velvet gown to the purple
brocade. "a very, very old love affair
that, my dear. He and she were per
fectly inseparable, and a most suitable
match it would have been. The two
oldest families in the country; his equal
In position and fortune. Lord Stour'