The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1885-12-03
PETER WHITNEY'S FATE.
~Mr. Whitney ?"

smr. w nl-ney
"Sir?" replied the individual ad-
dressed.
u want you to cross to France this
evening"
"yery well, sir" said Mr.. Whitney,
quietly.
"Or tomorrow morning will do.
Here are your instructions. Read these
rapers carefully; make the best ar
rangements you can. 1 may want the
house-you will see all about it in these
documents"
"Am 1 to purchase the premises,
sir?"
mo, no; they have come to me-to
the firm-in consequence OF an advance
made by my old partner, who, you
know, died the other day. Take pos
SEES ion; see what the place is like
whether it will do for a summer resi-
dence. You know the kind of thing j
want to take the children to, and can
depend on YOU"
Mr.. Whitney bowed and said he
thought Mr.. Barnstone might depend
On him. He took the deeds, made his
arrangements at the Office. tidied and
tied up his papers on his desk, and
then strolled homeward at three o'clock
to pack his portmanteau. He was a
man of about forty good-natured,
trustful, and trustworthy man OF
whom little children always stopped to
inquire "the time" and were satisfied
even if he did not drag out his watch
a man who piloted old ladies and blind
men over dangerous London crossings
"a man beloved by animals and chill
dren, and who cherished an affection
for cat, VIII CHI followed him as faith
fully as a dog in and about his house
at Brlxton.
Such was Peter Whitney, some
what impulsive man, ike his great
namesake-a person deserving of every
confidence in the legal employment
which he pursued, but not likely to
make very large fortune in anything
he was too easy-going as well as toe
good-natured.
Mr.. Peter Whitney strolled home
wards, first to Ludgate Hill Station to
take tram to Brixton, where in bach.
elor apartments he passed his quiet
evenings. He was crossing Chancery
Lane; by the post-oflice, when a young
and decidedly pretty girl, a French
girl, stopped him, and said in broken
English:
"Sare, would you be so kind you
look very kind-could you tell ne where
1 can find the Lincoln's Inn Fields?"
"Lincoln's Inn, mademoiselle; mais
certainement; je--"
"Ah! monsieur parle francais," she
exclaimed, interrupting him with a
pleased expression.
Then Whitney, who was French
scholar, addressed her in her native
tongue, and walked with her a few
PAGES in order to put her in the right
direction. SO they went through Lin
coins Inn, chatting, and he found her
destination was none other than Mr..
Barnstone's Office.
Having parted with his young COM
panion at the Office, he hurried away to
Ludgate again. He had learnt from q
slip of paper she gave him that the fail
foreigners name was Pulcherie Malais,
but he did not inquire her business in
Lincoln's Inn Fields after he had an.
nounced her arrival to the clerk in
charge.
"A very pretty girl indeed" muir.
INJURED this middle-aged bachelor; "a
charming face; and what a pretty name
Pulcherie; quite fitting, too, for won.
der. Malais is not so nice, but it may
'one day be changed. All me-"
Thinking of Pulcherie, Peter Whit.
,ney entered the train; still thinking oil
her, he went home, and packed "Pul.
-cherie" in his portmanteau. But some.
how that young person escaped, for she
was with him all the evening in the
train to Newhaven; she eros ed the
channel with him in the Normandy,
. and reached Dieppe with him in the
warm autumn daylight, as bright and
fresh a memory as ever! Oh, Peter,
Peter truly thou art in love
The premises which Peter Whitney
had to investigate and arrange for were
situated some little distance mp the
coast, at or near avillage which boosted
a small river and fishing population
OF amphibious habits. The place shall
net be more particularly described, but
the river flowed through the valley oil
the Ange. and the stream and the in.
.creasing village bear the same name.
Fishermen, dealers in cattle-for the
valley is pastoral-lace-make these
are the inhabitants, and they follow
their peaceful occupations contentedly
1t was very fine morning when Mr.
Whitney resrNsd the village; he had
walked over from Dieppe fife day after
his arrival in that town. and found the
people eps fete in the village.
1t was a holi ay--a holy-day, APP
parertly, for the inhabitants had just
come aom the church, and the girl.
were dressed in holiday garb, walking
In picturesque groups; laughing, chat
terlng, and while avoiding, yet glanc
ing saucily at the young men, who
standing or seated, also in pairs Oh