The Penn's Grove record., 1885-02-28

low seat by the open window and Ber-
tie's sofa, | seemed to give to the hearts
of my lear ones the sweetness of the
hope that filed my own. l watched the
shadows lengthen and fall amongst the
grand old trees in front of the house
and then silently fade beneath the soft
silver rays of the bright full moon.
Even so may thus sorrow leave his
life 7" | breathed to myself, as | kissed
BERTHE a Good night" later on.
Two days Afterwards | received a
very kind letter from Mrs. Martyr,
through Mrs. FINLEY. She explained
that she wanted me at once, if c0nven-
lent to me.
''The sooner the better" | said to
myself, as 1 hustled about my prepare
tions. 1.-THE sooner | go the soouer /
shall be back. You see somebody Is
doigg something as fast as ever she can,
mother dear. Things are growing
brighter for us, are they not 7"
~ am sure | do not know where you
see the brightness, Di," was the re-
spouse. Il am sure things are very
different from what they used TO be. y
Let US never mind what they used
to be, dear. 1t is of no good moaning
over the past. The present is ours only.
Do not let us make it dismal by regrets.
[ shall want another box, shall | not 7"
Ana so | managed to interest my mother
i'll my packing, and she soon forgot
everything else in her desire that my
things should be of the incest and
neatest.
The last evening passed away, as all
such times pass, and the morning, with
its hustle and hurry, came too quickly.
1t WAS almost like a dream to me-the
lingering goodbye, the long yearning
gaze from eyes blind with unshed tears
at the dear faces in the doorway, the
rapid transit oyer the rough stones, and
the final stoppage at our little quaint
county station. The journey was
something new to me. and everything
[ saw possessed an infinite interest.
Opposite to me was seated a middle,
aged neryous-looking man, who rather
excited my curiosity by giving me the
idea that he lived a life of perpetual
apologies. He was constantly asking
our pardon for something or other,
which so worked upon my rlsible facul-
ties that l very nearly committed my
self by laughing in his face when he
said to me-
81 ask your pardon, but would you
like to look at the Graphic I"
Looking at the papers my fellow
travellers supplied me with and gazing
through the window, lost in speculation
to the new life before me, the day
1rrol no 1Iu rFAra RI q aiOca NUla hoUIn-
ming to feel rather tired, when the train
drew up at the platform of Silyington
station, and | knew that my journey
was at an end.
II ask your pardon, but pray allow
me 10 assist you out | will hand you
your cloak and things Afterwards
and my friend of the Graphic came
boldly to the rescue and helped me out
of the carriage.
SIS it Miss Cannon ?" asked a voice
behind me and, turning, | found my
self face to face with a very pleasant
looking man in clerical dress.
Eyes, am and [ presume you are
Mr.. Martyr"
We shook hands after that, and there
upon commenced my first introduction
to the owner of my new home. There
was something about the genial kind
face that smiled back upon me which
seemed to quite win my heart ; and l
thought, if Mrs. Martin resembled her
husband, l should, in all probability, be
very contented and happy at Hather-
leigh Rectory.
We were very 500 bowling along the
smooth lanes between tall trees, whose
branches met and entwined overhead,
upon the path before us such
a sweet subdued shadow as l have only
met with in the lovely south.
pretty, Miss Cannon? You do not
surely think much of this" said Mr..
Martyr to me, after a remark of mine.
alt is nothing compared with some of
the beautiful places about. If you are
fond of shady hooks and corners, you
must get my wife to show you her short
cut into Seldene Park. You will be de
lighted with that"
Is it near Hatherleigh ?" l asked
SIT Joins 1t" he replied ''and Mr..
Seldene has put up a little gate for the
benefit of my wife. 1t is a prettier and
nearer way through the park to the viii
lage. Mrs. Martyr generally goes that
way"
So we chatted, first about one thing
and then about another, until we drew
up at the door of the Rectory.
The next morning a most unimagin-
able surprise came to me. After | had
arranged a program of studies with my
Vnnil anA che had taKan mo rnt,nA fha
garden and shown me the i~ntricacies of
the many pathways, the sp endor of the
magnolias, and the refresh
ing 0eanty of the ferneries, Mrs. Mar
tyn came to US and put an envelope INTO
my hand.
miss Cannon" she said, with her
sweet smile, ''my. husband thinks it
much the best for you to have this now.
1t is of no use for either of us to stand
ceremony, though We do not know
very much of each other. 1t is a diff
Guilty that we shall daily overcome /;
meanwhile | know about your brother
and ~sympathize deeply with you. You
must not hesitate about taking this
now," she added, as she turned to
leave me. 81 know it is for him. Mrs.
told me ; so you see, Miss Can
non, how nicely We have managed to
secure your companionship for twelve
Upon opening the envelope, | found
it contained b~ank-notes TO the value of
pounds. 1t was my salary for
twelve months and Mrs. Martin had
given it to me In advance, knowing my
anxiety for my brother. / felt so pleased
that l hardly knew where / was. 1t
was so thoughtful, 80 kind
81 must go into the house, Maud" |
sand to the child 81 must thank Mrs.
Martyr"
Before evening, my letter home was
written and the money sent off and /
knew that no time would be lost by
BERTHE in consulting the great German
oculist about his sight. All, and | had
done it ! 1t was such a happy thought
10 me.
After this my days passed very quietly
and ~enioyably. My pupil and | grew
great friends /; and she took me to many
hooks which | transferred to my
sketch-book for the delectation of Berthe
when we should meet.
One day | strolled through the little
gate leading into Seld6nA Park.