The Penn's Grove record., 1886-01-16

walter never forgot he was a Bo.
hum" said l. 'IIe ever dreaded dis.
honor far more than even poverty or
DEATH"
sis he poor2" she asked, her baauti.
ful face growing sad and grave.
Comparatively speaking" | replied;
''but my father says Walter Is sure to
regain his position in time"
"How deeply he must have felt leav-
ing OakdaIe, said Florence. ~ shall
always consider myself a great usurper,
Belle.n
NAY, that you must not do" said 1
Remember, the money your father
paid for this estate enabled Walter to
clear his fathers memory from all stain
of debt or dishonor."
81 am glad of that" she said; "but I
wish he could have had the money
without losing Oakdale."
My heart warmed to her as she spoke
so gently and pityingly Of my absent
friend.
'If you will come with me-" | said,
81 will show you the two rooms Walter
valued more than all the lands"
L took her to the rooms where his
young mother had bloomed in her youth
and beauty; l showed her how every
trace of that fair and noble lady's pres
ence had been preserved.
The tears fell fast as she gazed upon
a little cap, half embroidered, that lay
on the workable near the window.
"Was that for Lady Bohun's baby?"
she asked.
Eyes" 1 replied, ''and the baby was
Walter. 1t is twenty years since the
happy young wife sat there working for
the child she was never to see
Did she eve see Walter?' inquir-
ed Miss Eyrle.
''She died on the same day he was
born" l replied.
81 will never, while l live, . she said
resolutely. ''allOw these rooms to be
touched. No one shall come near them
but Mrs, Vance, who tells me she was
Lady Bohun's own maid. have prom
ised her she shall never leave Oakdale.
Come with me to the picture gallery,
Belle" she added, after carefully lock-
ing both doors; ''show me Lady Bohun's
portrait and Sir Walters"
We went through the long corridors,
talking earnestly the while. At the
end of a long line of Bohuns shOne the
far face of Walters mother.
''She was very beautiful" said Flo
renee, after gazing. earnestly for some
time at the picture; 'but there is some
thing in her face that seems to say she
will die young. What earnest eyesl l
could fancy she was speaking to me. If
she could do so, | wonder what say"
| looked at her wonderinEly; she wa
quite serious and grave. 500 you know
Belle, o." she added, 81 feel as though |
was living in a romance or a dream.
Shall l wake and find myself in st.
Petersburg, or shall l become a Bohun
and part of all 1 see around me?"
"You are fanciful," | said. "Will
you come here to the library, and see
Walters portrait now?"
l was proud of him as we stood be-
fore it; for its beauty was of the highest
kind. The noble chivalrous face and
dark eyes might have belonged to a
Chevalier Bayard, the mouth was firm
though sweet and gentle; something of
melancholy made the features seem
older and graver than the number Of
years warranted. She looked in silence
and turned away without speaking.
That was the first of the many happy
days L spent at Oakdale with my new
but dearly loved friend. | found her
disposition as charming as her person.
So ten months passed rapidly and
cheerfully away, then came a change OF
fortune for US. My father, though a
gentleman of good family and position,
had never been a very wealthy man. 1t
had required prudent management both
on his part and on my mothers, to en-
able them to keep up The Laurel's, our
pretty home, and to indulge in the lux.
ury of a carriage; but now, by the death
of a distant relative, of whom We had
but seldom thought or heard, we sud
denly came into possession of a hand
some fortune.
The first thing my mother decided
upon was that a house must be taken
for the season in town; and, for the first
time IN my life, l saw before me the
dazzling vision of London gaities. Flo
renee rejoiced with me, but declared 1t
would be utterly impossible for her to
stay at Oakdale alone; and as her aunt
through delicate health, was unable TO
travel and unwilling to change her res
idence, 1t was arranged that Miss Eyrl
should accompany us.
Good news, Belle" said my father.
entering the breakfaSt-room suddenly,
as Florence and L were discussing the
merits of Lady Lufton's ball, ''who do
you think will be in London t~O-dayf'
81 cannot guess, papa" | replied
sunless you mean Walter?"
"You are right" said he; she returns
from Paris to-day; and, as his regiment
is now at Hounslow, we may hope to
see a great deal of him."
l could not express my delight; |
turned to my companion for sympathy.
Her beautiful face looked pale and
anxious.
"Belle, :" she said, as my father hast
ened away ''promise me one thing"
Il will promise you twenty If you
will look like yourself, u replied.
"Ah, but seriously" said Florence;
'Eif Sir Walter BOhun comes, do not tell
him just at FIRST that l am the heiress
of Oakdale."
But why notp" 1 ask, in utter sur
prise.
''Do promise, Belle" she said. 81
love you all so much, and you all love, him
50 that l wish him to like me a little
also; and l believe it would be quite i'm
possible for him to do so, if, on his re-
turn home, |, by my presence here re-
vive all his painful thoughts"
"What a strange ideal'' l exclaimed.
"But it is true, | am sure" said
Florence. "How can he know who
am, and yet endure the sight of me2
Let him know me and like me tor your
sakes first, then he will not feel so BIT
terry towards me-"
She was so anxious and so distressed,
and 80 II earnest, that, sooner than
cause her pain, l promised all she re-
quired. and undertook the most difficult
task of persuading my m~atter-of-fact
parents to respect her wishes.
Walter came on the day following;
but so improved, so handsome, and
50 stately, l hardly recognized my old
playfellow. A slight shade of melan-
chOly only increased the beauty OF his
face.
Ha5 ha Haan ,,v FaFhar1s Oun son bA