Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1885-05-21
me-" answered Margaret in an unsteady ,

~
ything be af aid of your Uncle Bel
knap, for he never would have tine
hardness OF heart to turn q poor young
ster away, who comes wanting home
and friends, in the dead of winter. No.
miss, don't be afraid to ask him for q
home. Here's where he lives; now,
dye see that big barn and the two lit
tie ones on the west side of the road,
and the house on the east? Well, that's
Gis home, and good honey homo
you'll have, miss. I'll just turn in bit
and take you to the door; if Cyril is
not at home the housekeeper will be,
and it will be all right any way"
With gentle curve the spirited
steeds swept around the drive, and the
little old man stood up in the sleigh
and shouted, "Hellop I his was novel
way of calling on the neighors, to Mar
garet, but an old lady came to the door,
in black dress and white cap, and
said, "Mr. Belknap is not Just in; 1
presume you wished to see him. Mr..
Ross 2"
mo, ma'am; not for myself, but I've
brought relative of his, who will come
in Immediately, as she is almost perish
ing from the cold"
The housekeeper stood shading her
eyes with her hand from the western
cleaning, which still fingered low and
bright. "Come in, please" she said
pleasantly, addressing Margaret. II am
so crippled up with rheumatism that /
dare not venture down the steps with
out my overshoes."
Margaret climbed down and took the
big basket which Mr.. Ross handed out
to her, and thanking him warmly for
his kindness, she followed the house
keeper into the hall.
The sitting-room, wide, low room,
with its wide fireplace and great blaz-
ing logs, seemed a very paradise to the
"You are relative of Mr.. Belknap's
then ?" questioned the woman, helping
Margaret off with her wraps, and draw
ing n chair TO the fire.
Hardly" answered Margaret, "he is
step-brother of my aunt's, yet we all
call him uncle; am Margaret Lowell,
OF Waterford, and live with Aunt and
Uncle Maynard"
"Oh, yes; we'll 1 am Agnes New
ell, the housekeeper," returned the
other, "and you may call me simply,
Agnes. l wonder that your uncle did
not meet you at the station, Miss
Lovell?"
"Uncle Cyril is not aware of my COM
ing"
"Oh then you mean to surprise him,
1 see" and the old lady smiled. and
smoothed her cap ruffles in satisfied
way, and stirred the fire with the long
brass tongs. "But he will be glad to
spsdR sfs Hpn 81 5R 5R0H fer Ss Bys 4saHf bedj% BIN
real glad surprise for him, am sure"
she ended, meditatively, hanging up
her tongs and looking over her spec
tacles at Margaret.
Eyes, / am sure 1 shall have pleas
ant visit"
The housekeeper drew the heavy
blue curtains over the double windows
of the sitting-room, and lighted the
lamp swinging over the mantel, whose
light gave the long room cosy, soft
glow, even in the corners by the high
walnut bookcase.
Margaret, having become warm and
somewhat rested, took survey of the
room, noting the fine pictures on the
wall, the soft gray carpet, the deep, in
viting sofa, and the two great chairs,
with their gray and brown cushions.
flanking the wide, cheerful, open fire.
"How restful," murmured Margaret,
with the tears in her eyes.
Just then the door opened and Cyril
pell-nap entered. He walked to the
hearth and began taking off his great
coat. Having hung it up finally by the
great bookcase, he turned toward the
fire, catching sight of the pale, pinched
face and dark, wistful eyes of his niece.
"Whom have we here 2" he questioned,
kindly, coming forward
Il am Margaret Lowell, of Water
ford; you remember me, do you not,
Uncle Cyril?"
The tired, wan countenance and quiv-
ering lips told pitiful chapter, and the
tender heart of Cyril Belknap was
stirred within him.
"Yes, indeed" he responded, kindly.
Il remember my little niece; 1 am so
glad to see you, Margaret" and he took |
both her thin hands in his. $50 you
thought you would surprise lonesome
Uncle Cyril in his bachelor quarters?
Well, you are doubly welcome, Mar |
garet.
"How shy and worried she looks; and |
so miserably clad, for this time of year,
too" cogitated Cyril that night in his |
own room, when he had retired for o |
smoke. Il verify believe Lucinda has |
kicked her out; every move of Margie's !
goes to warrant it, and, if she has, I'll |
keep her-that is, if she will stay. I'm |
certain she has come to stay; what else |
could explain that enormous basket? l |
do not believe there's another one of its |
size in the State" and he held the fra
grant Havana between his forefinger |
and thumb O moment, thinking. Then |
presently he said. aloud, "My was not |
that faded gingham cold-looking, |
though? Lucinda had ought to he |
ashamed of herselfp and he shivered at |
the idea.
After few days Margaret lost her |
shy, frightened manner, and faint roses |
began to creep into the pale cheeks,
and for the first time in her life she en-
joyed life but at times it troubled her |
to think that she had not revealed to |
her uncle the reason of her coming. |
Then, too, there was the possibility of |
his refusing her a home, although he |
had been so kind and thoughtful since |
she came. Day after day slipped by, |
leaving her more undecided as to what |
to say and how to say it.
$50 you've no father or mother?"
ventured little Nellie Dunbar, the maid |
of all work at Uncle CyriPs, as she |
hung large engraving in Margaret's
room and stood back to see the effect