The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1884-10-10
SELECT STORY.
DISCOVERED IN TIME.

scent of the salt water, lies q Suffolk
village, Wynjord by name, OF whose
scattered population four-fifths find
their living and centre their material
interests upon that broad area they call
"the land"
A sleepy parish An unemotional
congregation of clodhoppers, then
BY no means, indeed Wynford has
decided opinions, brisk little quarrels,
many social grades of its own, and
has, moreover, its full quantum of hui
man joys and sorrows perhaps, hid.
den among its sober generations, some
tragedies, and to q certainty now and
then bit of romance.
On Wynford Green, near the flint
lowered thatch-naved st. Nicholas 3,
cluster all the dwellings, of the rural
upper ten, from The smart white villa
of a late shopkeeper's buxom widow
close by the rectory TO the red brick
residence of vice .admiral's relict-
Mrs Orde--from whose easements one
can look across the narrowing road in
TO some twenty acres of park, where
stands the chief house OF the parish,
"The Beeches.'
Here lived the lady Of the manor.
Not a stately, eXacting dame, ruling
jealosy over tribe of bobbing, hat
touching rustios, but young and
beautiful woman, who inherited through
her mother a position none ever needed
TO grudge her sweet and noble nature.
Miss Temple, my daughter that is
TO be, seems part of Wynford's very
self, Mr.. Murray explained Mrs.
Orde to the newly come rector on his
first call, one autumd day. He was an
Oxford Fellow, who, in the sudden i'm
patience at the barrenness of book
life, had deserted it for the opposite
extreme--a moderate living in the
depths of the country. "The people
think so much of her and she of them
that fear it will be a lamentable day
when my son comes to take her from
us"
"Your-son repeated Mr.. Murray,
politely-almost more than politely at
tentive.
eyes, from India, lie returns soon,
to rob your parish of its mistress. You
had not heard this? Oh, well, think
our clergyman ought to understand
what goes on among us. II makes
him more at ease, does it not 9" And,
with the friendly view of furthering
pleasant footing, Mrs. Orde chatted
complacently into accounts of the
neighboring family, and told how a
Mr.. Temple, well connected but of no
fortune, had married the heiress of
Wynford manor, who, sadly enough,
had died, when this one child, Agatha,
was born.
''But there are two Miss Temples 2"
interpolated Mr.. Murray, puzzled by
remembrances of two attractive faces
near his pulpit, of which one had ear
nestly marked Tor so he fancied) every
syllable of his first nervous sermon,
while the other had wandered from
pointed attention, through smothered
yawns, into comfortable little nap.
"Surely ! see two ladies often together,
both young; thought them sisters"
$50 they are--at least, half.sisters,"
explained Mrs. Orde ''for Mr.. Temple
foolishly married again--a french lady,
little Agathas governess and Miss
Leonie is her child--younger than
Miss Temple by five years. Poor
thing Her father died long ago,
leaving not the least provision for her /;
for, of course, he had only the life in
terest in The Beeches. So his widow
and little girl were simply dependent
on the elder daughter. But the trust
ees were liberal, Miss Temple most un-
selfish and generous, and they all lived
admirably together till Mrs. Temples
death
(Which was
"Four years ago, six months before
our dear Agatha came of age. 1t was
Just when my son got his assistant
judgeship, Mr. Murray-an excellent
ppointment--and, on the strength Of
his promotion, wrote home as he did.
1t has been long engagement, has it
not! But Geoffrey would never live
on his wife's income, without means or
position of his own, so he determined
to keep abroad till he earned pension;
but | am thankful to say, the last
three years of his exile are not to be
lonely. Now you understand what
brings him home, Mr.. Murray"
Mr.. Murray understood Mrs Orde's
modestly triumphant confidence only
too well. By some process of reason
ing he had no mind to trace to its
source, he felt the revelation had
spread shadow over his own lifo !;
and as he went back alone, past the
golden brown Beeches, to his solitary
fireside, was half inclined to wish he
had never ventured from the scholarly
seclusion of Corpus into the perils of a
country pastOrate.
And how was Mr., Geoffry Ordes
return awaited by the tenants of the
manor-house Seemed the days long
or short to Agatha Temple till he
came?
Why, scarcely could she tell. The
playfellow of her almost babyhood-
the lad who used to bring his school
boy laurels for her praise-the youth
who had gone for her while she was in
her first girlhood--had wooed her as
yet with only written words and
though she trusted every syllable, and
idealized her absent love perchance
more than most lnaidens-for, save
Leonie, no other was near and dear to
her--yet, to leave for him the home
she clung to more each year, to cast
her lot in with his, was a point over
which sadness and gladness often
fought, and victory lay as yet on
neither side.
81 know what ! shall do" asserted
Leonie, very positively, one night in
when, being telegraphed as
arrived at Southampton, Mr.. Orde
might any hour appear al Wynford.
"When that man comes / shall hate
him ~
80, Leonie whyl" laughed her sis,
ter, stroking the pretty, wilfully posed
head, shorn of its sunny tresses in
freak of fashion, and left shining, cur
ly, provokingly ooaxable. "Remem-
Der, when Geoffry left it was you, not