The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-10-10


| mood outer Brackencleugh pleased her. She had
never been in Scotland before. and had spent the
| greater part of her life in cities. She was &C
customed to smoke, and noise, and dinginess Of
| all compilations, and the soitariness and the 81
| lence were new experience for her. She could
imagine, as she leaned from the broad sill and
felt the fresh cool air her face that there was
no London, or Paris, or Vienna in the world 1t
was not easy to realize any phase of existence so
utterly beyond the influence of solitary stiffness.
Everything was so quiet that certain faint,
| weird sound which aoated to her from some
| where indefinite, short time afterwards, quite
startled her She was not prepared for soun
| of any kind, and felt impatient at being dis
| turoed. She listened For an instant. and then,
| when she heard it repeated, recognized its ma
ture, and shrugged her shoulders.
| 1t IS some one touching violin" she said.
And should think it could be nobody but Mr..
| | wonders"
| Thus she was brought back 20 Mr. Wilfred
carnegie and earthly things. She closed the
window and reminded herself she had to dress
| for dinner.
| Its bit queer. by the way" she said to her
SELF as she turned to the toilet table; 'its bit
| queer that have never formed even an atom of
an idea of him. But If he's violin playing man,
shall be sure to not to like him at all-at least,
| If he is the kind of man who is usually an
amateur. I always detested amateurs of any
| kind-particularly musical ones. They always
| bore you So They are constantly hopping on
one leg-and they never do anything but hop;
and they so absurdly satisfied that their hop
ping is better than ordinary peoples respectable,
| sober walking.
1t was rather gloomy and severe view of the
matter but her mood was a msanthropic one.
She hardly vouchsafed herself a glance as she
made her toilet. The result was mere matter
| or chance, and was only happy because 1t was
| impossible to destroy the effect of youth. and
| bloom, and unusual beauty. But with all her
scorn for amateurs, it was not long before she
| found herself stopping with a ribbon IN her
| hand to listen again. The sweet, weird tone
stole UP to her again, less family and more con
| tInuously There was no more light touching
| of the strings. The performer had begun to
| play in earnest and, as she heard, it gradually
| broke on Pills mind that, whoever he might be,
| he was very much in earnest indeed, and knew
what ne was doing. He was playing softly, al
most dreamily, and he was at some distance. but
| he was playing ordinary amateur plays
as If every note was thought, and he was
moved by kind of rapt tenderness. It made
| Philippa open her eyes in wonder.
| ooh" she said. ''that is altogether different
| matter Nobody suspected him of that"
| She began to be curious at once, and even
| fastened to finish dressing.
! 81 should like to see his face when he is play
| ing like that" she thought. Zone would be sure
| to understand him little
| It is not improbable that she had some vague
! hope of seeing it. when she went down stairs
| though certainly she had no definite idea of how
| favored her. however Reaching the foot of the
| stairs, she found that the sound came from the
| room she had not long before. left to go to her
! own, and a few steps took her to its threshold
She stock at the open door and looked in.
What she saw was q handsome, charming
| young fellow. with an air of such freshness and
youth, and grace, as was sheerly wonderful In
fact it was almost impossible to find fault with
him, he had so much of physical beauty and rare
attractveness. His figure was light and 1.-the
wOmanlSh
softness, the brightness OF his face made Phil
feel as if her own nineteen years had suddenly
become ninety.
1t was not many moments before he saw her
and then he looked brighter than ever He laid
down his violin and came towards her, putting
UP his hand to push aside the few stray locks
which had fallen forward. carelessly upon his
forehead-a gesture Phil afterwards observed as
Icing habit with him-and, as he advanced
the girl looked at him feeling oddly uneasy, and
beginning to think that she had made mis-
take.
sit is not" she hesitated. 1T is not Wilfred
Carnege?"
| He laughed gay, happy sounding laugh.
eyes, it isl he said cit is Wilfred Carnegie
And why not, Cousin PhilppaP
CHAPTER VI.
That was the beginning, and it was such fan
| cifu artess sort of beginning that it was inn
possible that anything ceremonious should fol-
low. Phil laughed little herself as she crossed
| the threshold and went to seat herself the
| chair he placed for her. Her companion did not
| sit down. He remained standing near the man
| tel and looked down at her with admiration
| so evident that in another man, it would have
| been trying. In him, however it was altogether
| different matter.
do you know" he said, 'that was half
| afraid you would not comes"
"If it had not been for governor / should not
| have come" she answered.
Governors? he repeated, questloningly.
II mean my father" she explained. II forgot
you would not understand. And you don't uu-
| derstand even now" she added, quickly You
think it sounds like slang, but it is not slang at
| all. began to call him governor when was
! little child-too young to know that it was odd
and somehow have learned to like the name
because have used it SO long that it seems like
| an old friend"
| "You are very fond of your father" he re-
| marked
| She answered him with quite proud little air.
| She was glad he had asked her It is not unlike
| ly that she had her own vague doubts of certain
| things she was always 30 sensitively eager 20
defend her father against any breath of doubt in
| others.
Il am more than fond of him" she said
'EFond is not the kind of word to use. Nobody
could help being fond of him-even people who
| saw him very seldom"
Cousin Dorothy" Wilfred was beginning,
when Phil turned upon him quite sharply.
''What could she say to you about himP she
said. ''She does not know him at all"
'She knows something of him" he returned.
| ''And she has heard that he is wonderfully
handsome man. and-well. very different from
| ordinary men,"
Phi!s face softened. She was rather suspi-
| cious of Mrs. Dorothy Oswald, even more suspi-
| cious than she had been of Wilfred Carnegie
| She had the natural feminine feeling that she
had rather do battle with man than with a
| woman.
II am glad she told you that she said 81
| was-at least-Wo have been very unfortunate y
| strengthening her pretty figure, land there are
people who, perhaps. misunderstood him."
| Boyish and unworldly as he was, Wilfred Car
| negie did not misunderstood He had heard
| more of Philip Fairfax than Mrs. Oswald had
| told him; and the look in the girls bright dis
turbed eyes moved him. He drew a great many
| rapid conclusions. If she had ever had suspi-
cion of the mans selfish weakness, she had never
| acknowledged its existence to herself She had
borne deprivation and humiliation: and had