The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1884-09-17

and happyW
The doctor sat for fully Eve minutes,
gnawing his mustache somewhat savage
"; then he took two or three turns up
and down the dining groom, and stood
looking out Of the window for a minute.
The prospect was a pleasant one-a
strip of smooth emerald lawn, the white
road leading to the village and beyond
the beautiful blue sea and the white cliffs
of Ballycoyle.
For seventeen years he had associated
Kitsie with the sea, the cliffs, the lawn,
the pretty cottage.
How would it all look when she was
gone? What a change would take place
in their happy homeL How would Dora
get on without her loving, constant com
panion1
How would he, Jack Grealy, bear the
loss2 1t was so sudden and unex-
pected that he had scarcely time to
realize what losing Kitsie meant to him.
self
He would not think of it. If this
grave, handsome, wealthy suitor could
win her, let him; he would not stand in
her light. lie had been everything to
Kitsie for seventeen years-since he res
cued her, tiny baby, from the sea at
the risk of his own life, and placed her
in his sisters arms.
There had been a wreck off " Old
Mans Nose, )" and the only two persons
saved were a tiny, golden haired baby
a Hindoo woman-evidently her nurse
who died day or two after.
For seventeen years the child had
made the sunshine of the doctors home,
the music of his life.
She knew no other friends, was not
even aware that she was their niece in
love only, and had no claim on either
Uncle Jack or Aunt Dora; and now the
first stranger that came by would take
her away. He or some other-it was all
the same, Jack muttered. He would
have to lose her, and he might as we'll
make the best of it.
IL suppose you're right, Dolly" he
sid, at length, turning to his sister {;
"Challoner would be an excellent match
for Kitsie. But l never even thought of
such thing, and for the moment was
surprised OF course, | must tell him
her history, the little there is of it,"
And then be left the room with the
slow, unsteady step of man but half
awake.
Miss Dora looked after him for mo-
ment in panied surprise. 1t slowly
dawned upon her that there was some
thing wrong with Jack-something
strange in his face and voice and man
ner, and that somehow Kitsie was the
cause of it, But she was a wise woman
and knew when to be silent as we'll as
when to speak, only she thought deeply
and sadly of the trouble in Jacks honest
gray eyes. After tea, Kitsie sat down to
the piano, and played over her uncle's
favorite airs, "The Meeting of the
Waters" "The Young Hay Moon, y
"The Coulin," and other plaintive, old
Irish melodies.
''Play something else, Kitsie," the
doctor cried at last, something new
something English. Pm tired of the old
Irish airs, they're so melancholy"
"Then I'll play you something from
'Pinafore.' l know you like that" Kit
sic cried, merriy, and the doctor smoth
cred an exclamation. He hated "Pina
foren-hated it doubly at that moment
for he remembered that Captain Chal
loner had given her the music.
At that moment the captain himself
, was announced, and after a pleasant
evening he rose to go at 10 o'clock, his
usual time for saying goodnight But
when the doctor accompanied him t.
the door he fingered for moment, and
then said he should like to have half an
hours conversation. "The fact is, doc
tor, have something serious to say tC
you, and as am summoned to England
on urgent business, l should to say it be
fore | go.n
Come into the den, the doctor said
leading the way. He knew quite wei
what the captain was going to say anc
neved himself to bear it.
"You must have seen, DOCTOR" he be
gan, that l admire your niece, Mis-:
Kitsie very much. She is very beauti
full, artless, and unaffected, and if car
succeed in winning your consent anc
hers, | should like to make her my wife
| am rich man, and l do not think you
will have any reason to fear for her fu
ture if you intrust her to me-"
5 81 believe that captain, but can
5 answer for Kitsie," the doctor said
little huskily; "i in fact, have no lega
{ right either to give or withhold my con
t sent, as the child is no relative either by
t blood or marriage, nor is she my ward il
= reality. picked her up seventeen year
Q ago, when a ship was wrecked off 'OlC
3 Mans Nose She has lived with my sis
ter and myself ever since, and is yer!
2 dear to us both, but we have no right t.
/ influence her."
Q "Still, am sure she will be guided by
your wishes to a great extent; at least
Q she ought to be, seeing how good yol
} have been to her. At least, give me YOU
5 consent to try and win herl"
| 'You have it," the doctor replied
"and if you do win her you will be for
? tunate. She has a beautiful nature,
I sweet temper, loving heart. Kitsie i
S largely endowed with good qualities, anC
$ she is very lovelym
Captain Challoner fully indorsed the
list of perfections, though he could no
e help asking himself what some of hi
I . aristocr,tic relatiyes and friends yOulf