The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1885-08-08
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THE CANCELLED MORTGAGE.

'sWhat is this, Burt p
This is the mortgage of an estate called
Derby place, Mr.. Faxon foreclosed more
than year ago, | believe"
"Well, it's what [ have been looking
for. [ will take charge of the papers, and
attend to the matter soon. Down East,
isn't it"
eyes sill"
Mr. Faxon put the papers into the
breasts pocket of his coat, came down the
Office stairs, and stepped iRt0 the glittering
purple-lined pheton, beside his wife.
The delicate Arabian, Mrs. Faxon's
horse, sped away out of the citys confines,
and soon tossed his jetty name along the open
roads, lined with gardens, ornate cottages
and villas.
tGoing away again, tomorrow, dear =
asked Mrs. Faxon, suddenly lifting her
fair countenance, as she interrupted her
husband, "Yoq seem to be away all the
time lately; can't you take me with you?'
''Not this time, Violet.
And Violet Faxon's husband fell into a
fit of abstraction, from which her smartest
chatter failed to arouse him.
They came at last to the Faxon man
sion, grand and simple, and fulfilling its
promise of beautiful interior,
Amid the white lace and crimson silk OF
her chamber, Violet was brushing out her
hair, when her husband paused in the door
way, and looked at her sharply. Then he
came slowly across the room, and lifting
the oval face in his hands, looked closely
at the roseate cheek, pearly ear and curved
| lashes;
hWhat is it?" asked Fiolet-ia freck=
le?"
'sNo," he answered, smiling family, and
strolling across the chamber. "You looked
like my sister then-that was all,
"Your sister, dear? You never told
me about her." said Violet.
"No," he answered, and said no more.
Mr.. Faxon bore no resemblace to his
delicate patrician wife. A little less than
thirty-dark, strongly built, active, vigor-
GUS, he impressed one as strong character:
If with remarkably rich comeliness of
countenance there were some sensual lines,
there was also certain evidence of strong
GOOD sepsc and look of deep experience;
Mr.. Faxon looked Ike 2 nan who carried
weight.
He was up and away at daybreak the
next morning. An early train bore him
eastward, and nine o'clock found him
landed at a small station called Seabrook
The dismal little building was set in o
field of clover, around which road wound
away among the mounds of verdure.
=" Tfter a glance around, Mr.. Faxon took
this road and walked along. The robins
hoped across it; the bnbolink sang in the
trees over it. The unassuming wild clover
among the grass perfumed the cool morn
ing air.
He passed only few houses, but he OBJ
served them attentively. They were al
old and humble frame houses. Apparent
ly this property which had, by the fore
closure of mortgage, fallen to Mr.. Faxon
was not situated in very rich or enter
prising neighborhood.
When he had walked nearly mile, he
came to green dooryard, among wide
spread apple tfees, with well sweep among
them, and residence, though plain, more
pretentious and comfortable than thu
others
There was narrow, well-worn patti
among the short grass and buttercups te
the porch, where bittersweet twined 1T
strong arms. In corner, under the yer
dure was an armchair with book on the
seat, and cane lying across TIA gnarled
twisted cane of hickory, that Mr.. FaxoI
looked twice at The book he saw was
Bible.
There was an old lady with sweet
faded face, and snowy cap-strings tied un
der her double chin, knitting at window
near by, but his quiet step disturbed ne
not.
He had put his hand to the knocker' n
took it down again as he caught sight q, Q
this placid face. He stood there quite stu
for several minutes. A gray cat came an'
rubbed against his leg. Some apple bios
SONS, floating down touched his cheek.
AT length the gentle lips moved.