The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-09-27
DISCOVERED IN TIME.

Some three miles back from our eastern coast,
just within sight and scent of the salt water,
lies a Suffolk village, Wynford by name, Of
whose scattering population fourffths find their
living and center their material interests upon
that broad area they call ''the land"
A sleepy parish2 An unemotioual congrega-
ton Of clodhoppers then2 By no means, indeed!
Wynford has decided opinions, brisk little quar-
res, many social grades of its own, and has,
moreover, its full quantum of human joys and
sorrows perhaps, hidden among its sober genera
tions, some tragedies, and to certainty now and
then bit of romance.
On Wynford Green, near the flint towered,
thatchnaved st. Nicholas's, cluster all the
dwellings of the rural upper-ten from the smart
white villa Of late shopkeepers buxom widow
close by the rectory the red brick residence of
Viceadmirals relict-Mrs Orde-from whose
easements one can look across the narrowing
road into some twenty acres of park, where
stands the chief house Of the parish, 1.-THE
| Beeches.p
| Here lived the lady of the manor. Not a
stately, exacting dame, ruling jealousy over
tribe of bobbing, hattouching rustics, but a
young and beautiful woman, who inherited
through her mother position none ever needed
1 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 autumn day He was an
/ Oxford Fellow, who, in sudden impotence at
the barrenness of book life, had deserted it for
4 the opposite extreme-a moderate living in the
4 depths of the country. '"Ihe people think so
much of her and she of them, that fear it will
be lamentable day when my son comes to take
i her away from us.
sYour-sonl" repeated Mr.. Murray, politely,
almost more than politely attentive.
Yes, from India. He 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. 1t makes
| him more at ease, does it notF And. with the
friendly view of furthering this pleasant footing,
/ Mrs. Orde chattcd complacently into accounts
of the neghboring family, and told how Mr..
Temple well connected but of no fortune, had
married the heiress of Wynford Manor who,
sadly enough, had died, when their one child,
Agatha, was born.
But there are two Miss Temples9n interpo-
lated Mr.. Murray, puzzled by membranes of
/ two attractive faces near his pulpit, of which
one had earnestly 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 to-
| gether, both young; / thought them sisters.
| 80 they are-at least, halfsisters" explained
Mrs. Orde; '.for Mr.. Temple foolishly married
| agatha French lady, little Agatha's 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 life interest in
\ The Beeches So his widow and little girl were
| simply dependent on the elder daughter. But
| the trustees were liberal, Miss Temple most I'M
selfish and generous, and they all lived adInira-
bly, together till Mrs. Temples death"
s'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 ex-
| cellent appointment on the strength of his
| promotion, wrote home as he did. 1t has been a
| long engagement, has it not2 But Godfrey
/ would never live on his wife's income, without
| means or position Of his own, so he determined
| to keep abroad till he earned pensions 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. Ordes modestly
triumphant confidence only too well By some
process of reasoning he had no mind to trace to
\ its source; he felt the revelation had spread a
| shadow over his own life and as he went back
alone, past the golden brown beeches, to his
solitary Preside, half inclined TO wish he had
never ventured from the scholarly seclusion of
Corpus into the perils of country pastorate.
And how was Mr. Godfrey Orde's return
awaited by the tenants of the manor-housel
Seemed the days long or short to Agatha Temple
Why scarcely could she tell. The play-fellow
of her almost babyhood-the lad who used to
bring his school-boy laurels for her praise-the
youth who had gone from her while she was in
her first girlhood-had wooed her as yet only
with written words; and, though she trusted
[ every syllable, and idealized her absent love-.
perchance, more than most maidens-for, save
Leonie, no other was near and dear to her-yet,
to leave for him the home she chung to more
each year to cast her lot in with his, was point
over which sadness and gladness often fought,
and victory lay as yet on neither side.
Il know what shall do" asserted Leonie,
s<,1.2 49,
when, being telegraphed as arrived at South
ampton Mr.. Orde might any hour appear at
Wynford. when that man comes shall hate
him!n
20, Leonie! whyl" laughed her sister, strok-
ing the pretty wilfully posed head, shorn of its
summer tresses in freak of fashion, and left
shining, curly, provokingly coaxable. "Remem-
Der when Godfrey left it was you, not who
cried increasingly. And who, pray, wrote to
him and begged him to come back, forfear tigers
would eat himl Who
Thu s-hi Scandalmonger!s cried Leonie, her
cheeks ahame. Then was small and foolish,
now | am old and wise, and wish he had kept
across the sea forever He'll take you away,
and what shall | doP
keep house till we come back Three years
| will soon go by, Lono darling There will be SO
much for you and Aunt Helen to do" AUNT
Helen was distant relative companion, now,
and chaperone to the two girls that time will
| fly Mind, you are not to miss me, nor let any
one else miss me- either"
Leonie gave disconsolate shrug stAunt
Helen will rule me with rod of iron. She
means to be good but she's like Mrs Orde, and
| knows I'm poor. and-and-she1l make memend
] my gloves and be industrious
1 Agatha's dark eyes rested lovingly on her sis
ter's young face, so like her own, save that its
| lines were always gay, while hers were often
| grave.
ssBe industrious, little woman she said, with
/ a half-motherly tenderness. eve richer folks
| have no right to be lazy, but-wait moment
| as Leonie crumpled her forehead into negative
| wrinkles over 1--WE richer folksn-'but no one,
Lono, will trouble you about being poor. You
know how often have been letter writing lately9
| You are independent enough, now, with all that
| my careful guardians have been saving for your
| fortune. l wanted to tell You before Godfrey