The Indianapolis sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1880-1904, 1885-04-12
THE BEACH FARM.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES
Wheeler.

"And serve him rightP' said Mrs.
Wynhart, grimly.
"Ob, mothef2' pleaded Winifred, who
was a fair-haired, cherry-lipped girl, al
ways hanging down her head like wild
anemone, "don't talk in that way,
pleased"
Mothers right enough" said Luella.
"Why shouldn't | talk that wayP'
said Mrs. Wynhart. ats the gospel
truth, amt il? Jack Jelife was wild
fellow, always careering around the
country when he'd ought to be at home
reading his Notes on the Chatechiz.'
"But, mother" ventured Winifred,
"you let him come here to see Luella,
when you supposed he was old Squire
Sandiman's heir"
81 couldn't put him out doors, could
IY' retorted Mrs. Wynhart severely.
Besides, that's quite different thing.
Squire Sandman ought to know his own
he's left all his money to Simeon, while
Jack has only got the Beach Farm,
where there's nothing on earth but sea-
weed and samphire, and long CLAIMS, to
be hadr'
ats an unjust willr' said Winifred,
reddening to the very roots of her faxen
hair.
"Hoity- toityl" said Mrs. Wynhart,
wheeling suddenly around and regarding
Winifred sarcastically through the
moon-like spheres of her big silver spec
tacles. "What business was it of yours,
I'd like to know? He never will be
Luella's husband nowr'
"There never was an engagement,
said Luella, cavalierly, "Of course girl
must amuse herself; but didn't care for
him."
Winifred looked up with her soft eyes
trimming over with tears. Was there
no such thing, she asked herself, as
truth and loyalty in the world? Why
did they all turn against him in this
way, just when his uncle's will had SO
Il uuelly ulsdppo'ultu nliHt
So Mrs. Wynhart and Luella went to
the "Weekly Chorus of Song" where
Deacon Thorney led the tunes very
much through his nose, and Miss Betsey
Boxfeld labored after, on leaky melo-
deon which wheezed audibly at every
note, and Winifred remained behind to
darn the stockings and put her twin
brothers to bed.
1t was the way in which matters were
always decided in the Wynhart house
hold. Winifred was quite used to it,
and never dreamed of making an appeal.
But while she sat there all alone, with
the twins snoring up stairs, and the fire
cracking on the hearth, and the golden
March moon climbing the sky, there
came tap at the door, and in walked
no less a parsonage than Jack Jelliffe
himself.
"Oh, Jackp said Winifred, jumping
up with slight scream.
eyes, it's l." said Jack, somewhat
modify. 81 just met your mother and
sister. They wouldn't speak to me-"
"Wouldn't speak to you, JackT'
Pretended not to know me, until ]
spoke. It's all the same. Winifred,
you don't believe it, do your he burst
out, abruptly.
believe what, Jackf' she faltered.
''That | am wild and yorthless-that
l deserved the slight my uncle has put
upon me-"
mo, Jack" earnestly responded
Winifred, with tears in her eyes, 81
never believed It'll Because we were
playmates together, and you were al
ways, oh, so good to mel And besides
Jack, 1 hoped-I thought you might
one day be my brother"
81 liked Luella well enough" said
the young man, slowly, "but it wasn't
she that wished to make my wife. Il
was you, Winifredl"
''Ir' cried the girl.
81 loved you, Winifred," said Jelliffe
in a faltering voice. whenever !
dreamed of home of my own, it wa,
your face fancied beside my hearth;
but now"
"Well." said Winifred. "now-"
al don't dare to ask any girl to be my
wife. / couldn't expect any girl to &c
to the bleak loneliness of the Beach
Farm, with its acres of sea-grass and
shingly sand, and its old, one-storied
house, all leaning to one side with the
east wind"
Winifred looked at him with soft