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

might be seen often at AmIty Place;
George Arcastle came frequently and Mr..
Ihorn, watching the two from his corner,
noted his manner curiously.
He seemed very fond Of Daisy always;
tut now and then there would arise q con-
stralnt IN his manner. which was greatly
al variance with the l0YeT-like tenderness
Of other times.
Il must have a talk with him some day
thought Mr.. Thorn: though il is very
disagreeable to have TO speak upon such
SUBJECT. But cannot let this 90 on If he
does not mean anything-and if he does
mean II, L must-must make some inqui-
ries. He has told me he is a gentleman,
and ne appears to be rich, but beyond that
l KNOW nothing. He has always been ST.
lent about himself; never yet as much as
limited IN what part Of the world be lives
Disagreeable tasks often get prOcasu-
mated and just about this time Mr.. Ar
I castle mentioned that he was going out Of
I town 10 spend the Christmas-ShOuld pro-
0a0ly be away a month. Daisy's face
/ Iell, put her fathers frightened. IN not
! speak 70 him till he comes back" he said
/ 70 himself; land perhaps there may be no
y necessity 10 do il at all. He may never
\ rene" his acquaintanceship with US; and
I it may be all the better for Daisy in the
I end II he does not. There is a secretive-
I ness about him that | don't like"
/ 80 Mr.. Arcastle departed on bis visit,
/ and the father and daughter remained on
Z IN their solitary loneliness.
/ More than q month passed before he
again appeared at Amity Place. Daisy
/ met him with a white, sad face, and she
/ wore deep black dress that told its own
( story.
He was buried yesterday, she gasped.
I 'Only yesterday"
I Mr. Arcastle had not an unfeeling heart.
I lie was deeply shocked; and when Daisy
/ grew little calmer he got her 10 tell MIN
( some Of the particulars. Shesat back in
/ her fathers armchair as she did SO, her
/ thin hands clasped together.
1t was the very day after you were last
\ here. Papa had been making ready TO
1 walk out; he was going to picture dealer
! 70 see if he could get an order; l wished
/ him goodbye and went to my room 10
/ fetch some work. When ! came back he
/ was sitting on the carpet here, his head
/ on chair; he had turned faint and fallen.
! be told me. Mrs. Wilson got a doctor in;
( he said papa must 90 10 bed. or at least
{ rest and be still, if be wanted 10 get bet
/ ter. From that day he never went out;
never; instead Of getting better he grew
{ worse and last hursday-tO-mOrTOW viii
/ be a week-he died"
She seemed to recite this mechanically.
! little sob catching her throat now and
then. Mr.. Arcastle drew a deep breath.
Il am deeply sorry. L wish had been
here 10 visit him.
Yes, if you had been! We had no. one,
you know"
mo one. And-what are you going to
do now, Daisy:'
~Oh, that's all settled" she said calmly.
Z i am painting Water-cOlOr drawings:
little things on cardboard. They bring
me in enough to live and to pay Mrs.
Wilson. She lets me stay here Tor the
present"
a precarious Iying." he exclaimed.
with almost cOntemptu0us disparage-
ment. And one that may fail you at any
time"
II think not" she answered "While
papa lay Ill ! told him | should like to
dispose Of some Of the water-cOIOr draw
ings I had done when In Northumberland
( and he babe me take two or three to d
shop near the Strand. where they deal in
sucn, and to say that | was his daughter.
They liked the drawings and bought two
Of Them they have taken more since then.
and they say / cannot do better than 20
on painting them. Oh. I have no fear Of
getting on"
And / suppose You sell these things for
an old sOng:'
They don't fetch much, it's true. But
/ am very industrious. see! here are two,
ready to 20 in.'
Opening portfolio that lay on the table.
she showed him two small water-c0lors
Sir. Arcastle was no judge Of art; but he
saw how pretty they were.
''Why, that-that's a view at Fairsea,"
be exclaimed gazing at one Of them.
Yes" she sighed. Il did il from men,
DRY. Here is the cottage gate we used TO
stand at. and these are the rocks and
that's the sea In the distance
Perhaps these Things are as well as
anything else you could do for yourself
Fra fr br, Lott
the drawing down. And by and by he
took his leave.
The days went on and poor grieying
Daisy began to see some sunshine il them.
What with the constant occupation Of her
work which she loved, and the occasional
companionship Of George Arcastle, life
seemed to be growing bright again.
Some times, in the pleasant spring even
ings, he would come and tempt her out
for a walk, taking her into the quieter
parts Of the parks or through some Of the
more solitary streets-never into fire.
quented places. Daisy would lean on his
arm and glance up at his face in her hap
piness. Never a word did he give utter
ance to in any degree to alarm her-how
could he, 10 one 50 unsuspiciOusly innO-
centE-and Daisy thought that the world
was Eden.
And he-he seemed happy, too, but in a
titful way that troubled Daisy little
sometimes; seasons Of gayety alternating
with seasons Of gloom. she could not
understand them, ana they began to
torment her unreas0nably, just like a
I shadow.
81 wish you would tell me what it is
! that troubles you," she said one evening,
! as he stood tapping idly on the window,
after they got home from a walk. Gene
rally speaking, he left her at the door;
/ this evening he came up stairs. II do not
! like to see you unhappy"
! Unhappy. My dear, do not get fanci-
/ full" he added, with laugh-but, tG Dali
| sy's ears, it seemed forced,
| She turned to light her wax candle-fof
/ the twilight was deepening into dark
4 ness-put it on the table and took her
bonnet off. George Arcastle turned sharp
/ " from the window, shook her hand and
/ wished her good nlght.
Vaulting down the stairs he was con-
4 frOnted by the landladY. Good Mrs. VII
/ son, full Of busting care though she was,
1 had her ideas Of right and wrong, and she
! intended to protect the friendless girl
/ above, as far as it lay in her power.
Fright! perfectly So, Mrs. Wilson," he
/ cried in response to her few whispered
/ words. ''What else can you be thinking
1 Of -
"Weu, sir, ia not like to doubt YOU.
! You were friend, as | often remind N.Y.
! SELF Of the poor gentleman, her father.
/ But you are not her brother, Sir, and you
! are not, so far as / know, engaged to be
! her husband; and for any other save one
| of those two relationships, | can't help
| saying that you are here 0yermuch."
The front door was standing open and
the rays Of the gas-lamp fell full on the
| honest face Of the landlady. Mr.. Arcastle,
| looking also full at her, paused.
''And what if l tell you, Mrs. Wilson,
that | am engaged to be her husband? At
| any rate that / intend shortly 10 be so -
.'Then, sir, if it is so, | am only too
glad to hear it. oyoureally mean it, sir?
/ Honor bright?"
Il do mean it," he answered, laughing
| ", as he turned away; ''gOod night
''And that's pleasant news for a rainy
day" thought the good landlady as she
! gazed admiringly after him. Somehow
! i didn't think it-and l had to take care
Of the child. BE is so fine and fashion
able-seems as if the world were made for
| him.
The next evening Mr.. Arcastle came
again to take Daisy for a walk. During
/ its progress he asked her to become his
wife. What answer could she make but
/ 'Yesl"
1t was a pleasant evening, just cold
enough to make ones pulse Jingle.
! George Arcastie was in the gayest Of
/ spirits, laughing and talking merrily as
] thav eounfarad olonp he lOOkinU down