The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-07-22
Seletteo Storp.
Colonel Kemp's Ward.

Colonel Kemp sat at breakfast, on
fine September morning, in the dining
room of his country house, a fine old
mansion situated in a beautiful Berk-
shire glade not far from Windsor.
Vis-a-vis to the old gentleman at the
well-appointed table was his daughter
and only child, Victoria, a blooming
brown-eyed, creamy-cheeked young lady
of about twenty-three.
The colonel, who was widower,
had gained considerable renown dur
ing the war in the Punjaub. He had
earned great deal of prize money and
numerous medals and crosses; and
having, beside his pension, much pri-
vate property, partly derived from his
deceased wife, he was enabled to keep
both country and a town house, and
to live in good style.
In person he was tall, sunburnt
man, muscular and active, taking into
consideration his siXty-eight years.
His eyes were of a clear steel-blue,
bright and penetrating in their glance,
and his teeth were almost as white and
we'll preserved as those of man of
five-and-twenty. Unlike many field Off
GERS who have seen much active SER
vice, his frame seemed rather to have
acquired vigor by hard work than to
have lost it; and there was mingled
with his habitual air of command a
natural courtesy which fascinated all
with whom he came in contact. In
short, Colonel Kemp was an officer
and gentleman"
His daughter, Victoria, owed her name
to her fathers extreme loyalty to his
sovereign. She was the I" apple of his
eye," and well did she deserve his
warmest affection. The girl was some
what above the height of the majority
of her sex, and rather more strongly
formed. Perhaps her constant partici
patton in her fathers outdoor pastimes
had something to do with this. She
was an accomplished rider and archer
ess, followed the hounds occasionally,
and knew how to use the trout rod and
to bring down a partridge from the
covey with a small light gun which her
father had had built especially for her.
Yet there was nothing masculine about
Victoria Kemp. True, she joined in
her fathers sports occasionally, and
was his constant companion; but then,
she had neither mother nor sisters, and
her dearly-beloved father was as yet
her all-in-all. In the home circle Vic
toria exhibited all those soft and fem
mime graces which so well adorn a
woman, and which, by force of con-
trast with their own sterner qualities,
are so attractive to the opposite sex.
Besides a finely formed figure, Vic
toria was endowed with most attract
i've features. Her nose was straight
and finely chiseled, her mouth, though
large, eXquisitely cut, her complexion
of clear cream color, slightly tanned
by the sun, and her eyes were large,
lustrous, brown and full of feeling
Her feet were small and well arched +;
but her hands, though nervous and
well nodded, were rather larger than
is usual in her SEX Her browning glory,
however, was her magnificent chest
nut-brown hair, which, braided in natu-
raj plaits, formed splendid crown, and
was most appropriate to one with so
queenly presence and so queenly a
name.
The post had just come; and the col
onel, while he twirled his egg-spoon ir-
ritably between his fingers, was coming
one of his letters with perplexed look.
w litt oll III uOCo II llC
muttered. :" can't make head or tail
of it,
Victoria held her peace, knowing
perfectly well that by doing so she
would soon be enlightened.
''Here's letter." continued the col
onel. " A letter from Secundabab-no
Calcutta-from my old friend Chevil-
stone, containing an extraordinary
proposition most extraordinary, my
dear, most eXtraordinaryH'
Here the colonel hemmed, adjusted
his eyeglasses, and glanced fiercely at
the letter.
"Well, papa dear, what is it?" his
daughter ventured to ask.
"What is it?' Just listen, Vie
and the colonel read:
CALCUTTA, August /, 1867.
My Dear Kemp:-Thoughm many years have
elapsed since we fought side by side in the
Punjaub, | feel satisfied that you retain
sufficient regard for your old comrade to dc
dered by the surgeon of our regiment-youl
own old corps, you know--to recruit his
health by two years visit to England.
am rich enough to be able to give him every
indulgence, and he will be in England al
most as soon as this letter. Never having
left India, he knows nothing of our English
ways. | have directed him to you. Be tC
him as father, and oblige your old com
panion-in-arms, PHILIP CHEvILsToNE.
Victoria laughed during the reading
of the epistle.
"Well, papa" she said, "you have
often wished you had son; now yor
will have a ward.'
GA pretty thing" grumbled the col
onel, Z" to be plagued in my old age by
some overgrown, overspoilt brat''
8 Brat, papa! Why, surely, Mr.
Chevilstone cannot have young sons"
How do know that?' retorted the
colonel. " Many man makes a foo
of himself in his old age"
" But surely, papa, if Mr.. ChevilstonC
was one of your companions-in-arm'
he must be about your own age; so it il
not likely'--
"No, it is not likely" snapped tn,
colonel, "but good many things hap
pen that are not likely, Vic. The lettel
doesn't say word about the fellows
age or anything"
cit is certainly vague" assentet
Victoria.
"Vague! It's perfect riddle! Wha
are we to do here with a great growing
lad who'll eat like horse, and MAKE
love to all the servant-maids?"
go, papa, it will not be so bad a.
that! Young Mr.. Chevilstone may b'