Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1886-01-28
THE ATTIC STUDY.

Miss Annie Lyster gave a sigh OF
relief as she placed the last sheet upon
q huge pile of papers, and pushed her
chair back from the study table. The
doctors table presented that letter
which literary men delight in, and
which no discreet housewife, however
fond of orderly array, would dare to
set to rights. Her own table looked
more tidy, though there were few
plotches of ink on the pretty crimson
cover. The bright October sunshine
was streaming in through the sky
light, diffusing a pleasant warmth, for
the morning had been frosty. Just
then the doctors slow step was heard
on the stairs, and soon he entered his
attic study.
Miss Lyster was still staring at the
armor in deep thought
There was letter in the mail said
the doctor, who loved to tighten the
gravity of age with his little joke.
Very good, DOCTOR said Miss Lys-
ter, with dutiful appreciation; but it
would be better yet if the letter were
for me-
1T is for yours truly as you will
no doubt find at the end of it; but no
the writing is masculine, a man in the
mail after all, and probably something
rather more affectionlte than the stiff
yours truly winds it up, eh?' and he
handed her the letter, which she has
tened to unseal.
Meanwhile the doctor stepped into
an adjoining room and busted himself
with the contents of an old chest, from
which he presently removed large
bundle of pagers, and returned to the
study. The young woman had finish
ed her letter. There was cloud up
on her face and suspicion of tears in
her dark eyes.
We'll, well! not bad news, I hope,
i'd the doctor.
yes, I am sorry to say, very bad
news. I ought to 60 home at once;
they are in great trouble there. Oh!
don't know what to do. cannot
leave my school, of course, until
Christmas week; so there it is
lis it something you can tel me
about, my dear? asked the doctor,
kindly. perhaps can advise you,
but of course don't wish to interfere
in your private affairs
you are very kind, DR.. Warlock-
you are always kind. Yes, I will tell
you about it, though you have enough
to think of without being bothered
with the troubles Of poor me. You
know my home is in Rockboro' Mo-
ther and have little farm there,
and we have managed to get along
quite comfortably since fathers death,
but the place is not ours really, that
is, it is mortgaged for $500 Father
died very suddenly, and his affairs
were so involved that all we had left
was the farm. That seemed to be Sc
cure, but all at once this mortgage was
produced, and that has been cloud
hanging over us ever since. l have
managed to pay the interest and the
taxes by teaching, and everything
would 60 on as it has done, suppose,
if the man who holds the mortgage
.ould be content. But now he insists
on having his money. We might as
well think of raising $5,OO0,O00 as
$500. Oh! I don't know what to do.
Mother is an invalid, you know, and
it would kill her to lose her home, bu
it must come to that, fear
You say the interest and tazes are
kept up; what rate of interest do yor
pay?'
six per- cent, and it has never rur
behind We have heen very careful
about that.
Dear me, l can't see why in these
times, when money is so easy, mar
should want better investment.
You don't know the man, doctor
He is sort of country speculator, anc
though he is rich | suppose he has
many schemes on hand and likes to keel
his capital moving. But | believe i
he chose he could let this investment
remain. He doesn't choose, however
Besides, his father, and not he, advanc
ed the money, and it is part of his
patrlmonv.
Youag and married2' queried the
doctor.
Not SO very young, and-unmarri-
|, replied the schoolmistress, with q
downward glance.
Unmarried, but not because he
hasn't asked, eh? Is it the old story
over again, the hard hearted miser,
who, because he can't get a loving
glance from a pair Of bright eyes
'hreatsns vengeance upon the pretty
orphan and sick mother, and SO forth,
at cetera9 That's the diagnosis, sn2
said the docter, with mischievous
smile. Come, come, in these days
that sort of wooing isn't the thing,
There's no romance in that, as Tom
Hood says. But your letter was ad-
dressed in o masculine hand, Haven't