San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-08-20

one knew my parents, my name, my POSI-
ton. / might bC the daughter Of peer OF a
peasant had not friend. In the whole
world there was not more lonely child
than /.
Every one called me "Gncia"-the house
keeper, the old butler, the headgardener, the
Vicar, his wife and daughter; | had no other
name. When any one said abruptly, "Gracia
whatY'-as people often did when they ask
ed my name--I could not answer. "GTacia,'
the simple Eame-nOthing but "Gracia"
The keenest of all pains 10 me was having
no name; and when ! read the story OF the
shadowleSs man. belived that understood
what he had suffered. l wa part Of the
place, just as the pictures and statues and
carvings were; and grand old place II was
true.
The Squire who owned Heron's Nest at
the time Of my first memories Of the place
was called Wolfgang-a name Of which,
though not by any means an attractive one,
he was very proud, because many OF his an
CestOrs had borne IL; and of this Wolfgang
Dacre q story was told When young man,
he spent a season in London, and there fell
madly I'm love with a Court beauty, said to be
one of the loyeliest women in England. He
had not the least chance Of winning her, for
she was Dukes daughter and great heir
eSS; she was a cOquette too. false OF heart as
fair Of face. The handsome young Squire,
who worshipped her as though she were
goddess, made very agreeable addition TO
her list of admirers. She had no intention Of
marrying him. but she enjoyed the pleasant
pastime of flirting with him, and revelled
In the sport. She liked to see the young
mans face pale with emotion, flush with an
ger or love, Just as she willed. She delight
ed In exercising her power over him, making
his honest heart thrill with rapture, then sink
with despair He was the fayOrite Of all her
admirers; but she never thought OF marrying
him. True he was OF ancient descent, his
name one Of the oldest In England, his wealth
k,,NN Iat, atrtrS
and she was a Dukes daughter. She ac-
cepted his homage, smiled upon him until
her beauty almost maddened him, wore the
flowers that he sent her, let him clasp her
hand until every nerve in his frame thrilled
with delight at the touch, waltZed with him
when the very sweetness Of the music daZed
him; but she never dreamed Of marrying
him. Had any one suggested such thing,
she would have been indignant When the
day came that Woltgang Dacre laid all he
had in the world at her feet, she laughed az
him and held him up TO derisiOn. He left
London then, never to return. He shut him
self up in the old manOr-hOuse, man whose
life was embittered for ever by the light love
of a woman.
There he lived for some years. Lady Mil
licent married, and the tragical stoIy Of her
death little later created great sensation.
Soon after that he went abroad, leaving his
beautiful home in the care of Mrs. BlencOwe,
his hOusekeepeT. Twice every year Mr..
Graham Of Thayies Inn, the Squire's solicitor,
went down 10 HerOn's Nest and remained
for week, during which time he thorough
= ly examined the house, ordered all that was
needful, attended to the accounts, and made
all arrangements for the next six months.
OccaSiOnally-but IL was a rare event-a let
ter came from the Squire 10 the hOusekeeper;
no one else however ever knew the nature OF
the contents. Everything went on from year
to year in the same mOnOtOnOus, quiet, peace
full way. Gradually the memory Of the
Squire died from the minds Of his people;
and then i came upon the scene-whence no
one at HerOn'S Nest OF in the neighbOrhood
could tell.
1t seems that one fine April morning let
ter came for the hOuSekeeper, Mrs. Blencowe,
After she had read it she called the servants
together, and told them she was compelled
to go away for time, as friend OF hers was
Ill and required her services. The house
keeper made her arrangements, attended to
all that would be required during her abb
sence, and then departed.
She returned when the June roses were
blooming, bringing me. / was six years old
when came with Mrs BlencOwe to Heron's
Nest. She never spoke to the other servants
about me. She called Gracia, and no one
knew whether It was my own name or not
i was simply Gracia. So far as / remember,
she was very kind to me.
At HerOnsdale there lived gentle, simple
old man, the organist of the parish church,
Michael Holt He taught me music and the
rudiments of Latin, and made me acquainted
taught me for several years simply for love
of me; for two years after she had brought
me to HerOn's Nest the houSekeeper died
suddenly. She was standing on the steps in
the library, busting some valuable books, when
she fell down dead. The doctor who was
summoned said the cause of her death was
disease Of the heart-disease of long stand
ing. SO | lost the only person who knew
anything about me.
After she was dead, people did what they
had never dared TO do In her lifetime-they
put innumerable questions to me. What did
] remember-what had SEEM Where had
] lived abrOad-in what town. Was Mrs.
BlencOwe my mother or was she my auntp
But | remembered nothing clearly, except
the roses and the high gray walls; therefore
could not crafty their curiosity. 1t was
possible that Mrs. BlencOwe might be my
mother, yet proud instinct told me she was
not. was penniless, friendless, living at
Heron's Nest on Sutferance; yet was proud
as the daughter OF any peer, and do not be-
lieve that | ever lowered my head for any
one.
No sooner was Mrs. Blencowe dead than
there was quite disturbance about me-
Some OF the servants said that the Squire's
solicitor ought to advertise for Mrs. Blen-
cOwe's friends. lie did so, and they came
forward; but none ofthem knew anything Of
me.
1t was suggested that l should be sent to
the wOrkhOuse or to an orphanage; but MI
Graham would not hear OF that.
The Squire would be angry" he said.
After all, the child will not cost much; she
had better stay here for the present ! do
not know the Squire's address, or l would
write and ask him what is to be done with
her,"
Then new housekeeper came-Mrs. Pat
erson; and she was as much mystified as the
rest with regard to me. She was kind, and
at times even indulgent 10 me- The general
belief Of the whole household was that was
Mrs. BlencOwe's daughter, and the servants
treated Inc as such. They were familiar and
kind; but they regarded me as one OF them
selves, and only laughed at my love Of books
and study
l led that life for some years. The only
person who treated me with any degree Of
respect was the Vicar Of the parish, the Rev
erend Ernest Sale. His wife never acknowl-
edged me even by so much as a smile or q
bow. She was highly connected, l believe,
and was regarded as model Of elegance. The
Wears daughter generally passed me by
with look OF cold contempt Miss Sale was
ambitious OF being considered country
beauty. She intended to marry well, and a.
together was young lady Of some import
ance.. To them such person as Mrs. Blen-
cowe's daughter was not worth moments
thought, and the only time that mother and
daughter evinced any interest In me was
when they both interfered to prevent me
from singing in Heronsdale Church. l had
fine cOntralto voice, which, thanks 10
Michael Holt had been well trained, and my
dear old master was very proud Of his pupil.
He said l sang like a nightingale. The
proudest hour of my young life was when l
stood up in the choir Of the old church to
sing, and my solo was
"Hark, the herald-angels singp
n l..