The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1884-01-16
INTERESTING STORY.
THE HALF-CASTE.
AN OLD G0vERNEss'S TALE.
FOUNDED ON FACT.
(Continued.l
--.
ny MISS UNLOCK.

}
whisper, Garry says we shall all be
very rich when Zillah comes of age. Pa
and ma kept it very secret; but Carry
found it out, and told it to brother Au.
gustus and to me. =
Told what?" said |, forgetful that i
was prying into family secret, and
stung into curiosity by the mention of
Augustus.
THAT Zillah will then be very rich,
as her father left her all he had; and
uncle Henry was great nabob, because
he married an Indian princess and got
all her money. Now. yoa see.a she con-
tinued with cunning smile. shocking
on that young face. I'VE must be very
civil to Zillah, and of course she will
give us all her money. Eth, you under
stand?n
| stood aghast In a moment all
came clear upon me; the secret of Mr..
Sutherland's guardianship--of his letter
to me intercepted-of the money lately
sent-of Mr.. lie Peers anxiety concern
ing his niece's life, and his desire to
keep her hidden from the world, lest
she might come to a knowledge of her
position. The whole was tissue of
crimes. And, deepest crime of ALL L
now guessed why Lieutenant Augustus
wished, unknown to his father, to en-
trap her still childish affections, marry
her, and secure all to himself.
| never knew much of the world and
its wickedness; / believed all men were
like my father or Mr.. Sutherland. This
discovery for the time quite dzzied my
faculties. | have not the slightest rec
objection of anything more that passed
on that seaside walk, except that, COM
ing in at the door of the cottage,
heard Zillah say in anxious tones,
kkNNhaf oil Mics i NvAnlat~Sf3 II
had wisdom enough to answer, Moth
ing, my dears!" and sent them all to
bed.
''Shall you be long after us?n asked
Zillah, who, as l said, was my chamber
companion.
An hour or two, replied, turning
away.
l went and sat alone in the little par
lor, trying to collect my thoughts. To
any goyerness the discovery of a CLAN
destine and unworthy loye-affair among
her pupils would be most painful, but
my discoveries were all horror together.
The more thought it over, the more
my agonized pity for Zillah overcame
my grief for her deceitfulness. Love is
always so weak, and girlish love at fif-
teen such fascinating dream. What
ever | thought of the lieutenant, he was
very attractive to most people. lie was,
besides, the first young man Zillah had
ever made acquaintance with, and the
first human being except myself who
had treated her with Kindness. But
what opportunities could they have had
to become lovers2 Ireeolleeted Zillah's
wanderings, evening after evening, i'll
the grounds of the deserted estate. She
must have met him there. Poor girl!
| could well imagine what it must be to
be wooed under the glamourof summer
twilight and beautiful solitude. No
wonder Zillah's heart was stolen awayl
Thinking of this now, | feel | am
wrong in saying heart of what at best
could have been mere fancy" Wom-
ems natures are different; but some
women have been gravely, mournfully,
fatally in earnest, even at sixteen.
However. in earnest or not she must
be snatched from this marriage at all
risks. There could be no doubt of that
But to whom should | apply for aid?
Not to Mr. lie Poer certainly. The
poor orphan seemed trembling between
the grasp of either villain, father and
son. Whatever must be done for her
| must do myself of my own judg-
ment, and on my own responsibility.
1t was very hard strait for me. In
my necessity | instinctively turned to
my best friend in the world, and-as |
suddenly membered-Zillah's too, /
determined TO write and explain all to
Mr.. Sutherland.
How well | remember that hour! The
little parlor quite still and quiet, except
for the faint sound of the waves rolling
in; for il was rather wild night. and
our small one-storied cottage stood by
itself in a solitary part of the beach.
How well | remember myself! sitting
with the pen in my hand, uncertain
how to begin; for / felt awkward, nev
er having written to him since | was a
child.
At first almost forgot what | had to
write about. While musing, | was
startled by noise like the opening of |
window. Now, as | explained, our |
house was all one Hat, and we could |
easily step from any window to the
beach. In considerable alarm hurried |
into Zillah's room There, by the dim
night-light. saw her bed was empty. |
She had ap. arently dressed herself-for
I saw none of her clothes and crept out |
at the window. Terrified inexpressibly, |
| was about TO follow her, when | saw
the hutter OF shawl outside, and heard |
her voice speaking.
mo, couSin-no, dear cousinl Don't |
ask me. | can't go away with you to-
night. 1t would be very wrong when
Miss Pryor knows nothing about it. Ii |
she had found us out or threatened, and
we were obliged to run away" Qm-
mediately / saw that, with a girl of Zil-
lah's fierce obstinacy, discovery would
be most dangerous, put out the light
and kept quite still).
II can't, indeed / can't, (" pursued Zil- |
lah's voice. in answer to some urging
which was inaudible; adding, with a
childish laugh. You know, Cousin Au- !
gustus, 1t would never do for me to 90 |
and be married in a cotton dressing /
gown; and Miss Pryor keeps all my best |
clothes. Dear Miss Pryor! / would |
much rather have told her. only YOU say /
she would be so much the more sur I
prised and pleased when | came back |
married. And you are quite sure that
she shall always live with us, and never
return to Yorkshire again?''
Her words, so childish, so unconscious
OF the wrong she was doing, perfectly I
startled me. All my romantic notions |
or girllsh passion following its own wild |
will were put to flight. Here was a
mere child led away by the dazzle of a
new toy to the brink of n precipice'
She evidently knew no more OF love and /
marriage than a babyl
For a little time longer, the wicked
lover cannot call him-suitor, urged
his suit, playing with her simplicity in
a manner that he must inwardly have
laughed at all the time. lie lured her
to matrimony by puerile pet names.
such as MY angel'-by idle rhapsodies
and promises of line houses and
clothes.
II don't mind these things at ALL
said poor Zillah, innocently; II would
not go with you, only you say that when
| am married | shall have nothing to
do, and you viii never scold me, and / I
shall have Miss Pryor always near me.
PROMISED
Here was a pause, until the child's
simple voice was heard again: .sIdon't
like that, cousin. / won't kiss Won
again. Miss Pryor once said we ought I
never to kiss anybody unless we love
them very much
And don't you love me, my adorable
creature?"
"I-I'm not quite sure; sometimes /
love you and sometimes not; but sup