San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-08-24
This story was commenced August .gOI
This story was commenced August III
NCUPID' NET.
BY BERTHA NJ. CLAY AUTHOR OF 'DIANA's
DISCIPLINE" "a BROKEN WEDDING .
RING" 'THOREs AND ORANGE
BLOSSOMS" DORA THOENE,"
&C, &C.


ewes, when think of the feTyOT and the
passion of that lOve-hOw / recalled Sir
Adrian'S face, his voice; how l kissed the
hand he had touched; how unutterably glad
and happy | was; how | knelt down at last
when the Christmas bells had ceased Chin
ing and thanked Heaven for having guided
me to happiness by the light of star.
| remembered the next morning the house
keepers warning that l had better Keep In
my room; but had some teathered friends,
rObin-redbreasts who always expected me TO
feed them. They cOngegated on the lawn
every morning, looking out for bread-crumbS.
The breakfast-rOOm opened ON TO the lawn,
and | thought | should have time to feed the
birds before her ladyship came down.
The sun shOne brightly on the snow, the
morning was lovely one. My face, when
looked at IL in the mirror, was so rldantly
happy that.I was half afraid lest any one
should note the change in IT, The pretty
redbreaStS were gathered round me, eating
the crumbs greedily, when suddenly heard
one Of the long French windows open. Look
ing up, I saw Lady Caryl. With one white
jeweled hand she beckOned me to her, and
went
"Who are your she asked, laying stress
on the word 'yOu."
The inevitable question, and the inevitable
answer
II am Gracia."
Her face darkened.
tone. Il understood that she was a child.
Come into the room. wish to speak TO you.
Close the window; it is cold"
| obeyed her, and stood before her.
so you are GraciaY she said. "My son
was telling me about you last evening 1t is
a strange story, one that | do not at all I'M
derstand. Do you really mean to say that
you know nothing about yourself, that you
have no clue to your own history, your par
entagep
None whatever" replied.
1T is generally believed that you are
daughter of the late Mrs. BlencOwe, person,
l understand, who was very reserved and re-
ticent. What do you think yOurSelfY"
81 do not think it is true" answered,
"because can remember family some part
of my life before ever saw Mrs. BlencOwe.
| have story" | continued eagerly; 81 am
have story" Ny heart smOte me as used
the word "friendless," and | grew warm
with the memory of the promise made to me.
The cold proud eyes looked searchingly in
10 mine.
"Why are you so sure of that?' she asked.
THE Squire told me so on the very after
noon of the day he died. and he promised me
that when he came home in the evening, he
would tell me my history He said, | add
ed incautiously, that he was going to right
wrong"
"To do what?" asked Lady Caryl incredu-
lousIy
ITO right a wrong" replied.
What wrong might that be?' she asked
coldly.
Il do not know. If the Squire had lived
few hours longer, should have known my
history; as it is, am utterly ignorant of it."
The pride and GOODNESS deepened in her
face.
"YOu do not suppose that the Squire had
wrOnged you in any way, do your she ask
ed.
No; | have never thought of such thing"
was my answer.
1T will not do for you to encourage absurd
ideas, such as thinking that the Squire has
done you wrong, or that you have any right
TO remain here"
IL have had no such thought, madam"
replied. Il have never had one thought of
the Squire which has not been kind and
grateful" / said warmly
Probably. There Is nothing so hurtful to
a young mind as INDUCING in false ideas.
Try to steer clear of doing that Romance
is fatal thing; no girl ever succeeds who is
romantic"
thought of the postem-gate and blushed
furiOusly. What would her ladyship say if
she knew of the meeting there?
Lady Caryl took the blush as a sign OF
guilt
"YOu are romantic, | see, and am sorry
for it; but make some allowance for Circum-
stances. Of course you have been dreaming
that you are some great lady-that you have
been stolen from your parents, who are anx-
iOusly waiting in their ancestral home to well
come you"
If she had been any one but Sir Adrian's
mother, should have hated her, she was so
proud and scOrnful, so cold and naughty.
She evidently miStrusted me.
THE Squire was good enough to exercise
charity towards you for some years. but
fancy it was done uncOnSciOusly. do not
think he knew YOU were here
made no reply.
II should like you to tell me yourself who
you think you are" she continued; tell me
frankly"
The most daring thought have entertained
is that may be the daughter of friend Of
the Squire; but shall never know now. My
story lies buried with the only person who
knew it."
"You seem to have been pretty well edu-
Gated" she said.
And then | told her of my hope of being
able to live by teaching music
you play and sing well them" she said
II am delighted to hear it. l care more for
music than for anything else. Now tell me
all that passed between the Squire and your
self during the few days you spent together"
told her all-eXcept that he had kissed
me.
80 he died in your arms" she said more
gently. That certainly gives you claim
on us. must think over what had better be
done for you. In the meantime, If want
you to play and sing to me, you will oblige
me, am sure"
81 will do anything to oblige you" l re-
piled, thinking to myself that it was because
She was Sir AdTian'S mother, and not by any
means because she was Lady Caryl.
She unbent little before i left her; but
my eyes filled with tears as L went back to
the lawn. She did not ask Inc to pass
through the room.
1t was rule at Heron's Nest that every
member of the household who could be spar
ed should attend church on Christmas Day.
i did not go with the servants, nor, as a mat
ter of course, with the family. had seat
In the church at some distance from the great
manor-house pew, but could see every one
In It saw the proud handsome lady who
was like, yet so unlike her son. | saw him,
and the glory of the Christmas morning to
me was complete.
All, the sweet calm happiness Of that
Christmas morningl IL was Christmas to
me because l had found friend. And my
friend was one to be proud of; in the church
there was no one like him His head tower
ed above all the others.
The Wears wife and daughter were of
course at church. Their seat was near the
manOr-house pew. l watched-may Heaven
forgive me with jealous eyes. saw that
Miss Sale was coquettishly conscious of Sir
Adrlan's presence. one really loOKeu Deau,
tiful in her costume Of velvet and fur and
her prettily-trimmed bonnet Evidently she
admired him. / saw her look at him several
times; but be seemed unaware that she was
gazing at him. And then, suddenly, while
the choir was singing of peace on EARTH"
found that he was watching me, that his blue
eyes were fixed intently on me. All, happy
yet miserable mel l tried first to appear In.
conscious of ii, then burning crimson blush
dyed my cheeks and buried my face in my
hands.
At length the service ended, and the people
left the church. Her ladyship entered the
Inanor-house carriage that was in waiting fol