The Penn's Grove record., 1886-01-16
THE HEIRESS OF OAKDALE.

"Oakdale is to be inhabited at last!''
exclaimed my father, with an heir Of
great excitement, as he entered tile
drawing-room where my mother and l
were sitting.
'Indeedl / am very glad to hear it, y
said my mother, laying down her book,
and looking up to him with an air of
pleased attention. "Who is coming
thereP'
"Ah, that is the question that has set
all the gosslps of the county by the
ears" replied my father. cat first 1t
was said a wealthy banker had bought
it; then the idea Of a retired na0ob was
started, and lasted for a whole week.
But the reality is certainly romantic. J"
"You have not yet told us what 1t
is" observed my mother.
ga young girl, just eighteen, and 4
very lovely reality l am told she is,f
was the reply. "Stephens and Rawson
wrote to me about the estate six months
since, and said they had a client who
was willing to comply with all the terms
and conditions of purchase"
''But | thought he was an old Rus
sian officer" SAID my mother.
something of the kind, " replied my
father. 1.-THE romance is in this that
after a long life at hard work, he being
an Englishman, resolved to spend the
few later years Of his life In his own
country. He had made a vast fortune
and had one only child, a daughter,
who is, l am told, as beautiful and ac-
complished as she is rich. lie wished
his English agents to look out for an
estate Tor him, money being no object:
they were to wait until IL offered that
had all the advantages he wished. As
soon as Oakdale was advertised they
succeeded in obtaining it, made arrange.
ments for leaving Russia and coming at
once to take possession of his new home
he would not allow any repairs 10 be
commenced; he preferred seeing the
place as it is, and allowing his Young
daughter to exhibit her taste and please
her fancy in the alterations.
"Alterations at Oakdale,n Interrupt
ted my mother, "would be simply desc
Grafton"
"You are right" said my flther;
''but poor Mr.. Eyrle will never make
any alterations. He arrived with his
daughter and suite in London six weeks
ago. They went to Morley's Hotel,
where l am really sorry to say the poor
gentleman took to his bed, and died"
s'How sadl' said my mother, Us his
daughter left quite alone?"
SAN old aunt, a relation of he faith
er's, is with her," replied my father.
''She is left. in fact, under her care, |
have just received a letter from her,
saying that she will accompany her
niece to Oakdale.'
"What | propose doing is this; Mrs.
Vance, the faithful old houskeeper, is
still at the hall, quite alone it Is true;
but l thought if Belle and you would
like a drive, we would go overthls morn
ing, and you can arrange with her what
servants to engage. Some of the old
ones would like to come back"
81 shall like the drive" said my
mother; ~ never saw any spot so lovely
as Oakdale Park; and Belle vii. enjoy
it, too"
Need 1 say l felt delighted at the
prospect of a fair young ne gh0or,
though my heart ached for Wal er Bo.
hun and his many cares.
The Bohuns had lived at Oakdale for
many generations; they were a noble,
generous, kind. but improviden. race.
Sir Stephen Bohun, after a long life OF
reckless generosity and prodigal extreY-
agance, fell IN the Crimea, leaving 10
his son Walter the heritance Of m
numbered estate and debts of enormous
magnitude.
When Walter was old enough he Y rs
sent TO school, then to college, ard Won
golden opinions at both places; and his
father, making a great effort purchased
for him a commission in one OF the finest
regiments of cavalry. While Walter
studied and worked, his father drank
and spent; he was obliged to raise a
heavy mortgage on his estate, he felt
that deeply, but said not a word to his
son. Remorse had no good effect on
Sir Stephen; he only drowned his care
the more. Heavy debts pressed upon
him, ruin stared him in the face, when
the Crimean war began, and he who
had been a soldier in his youth reused
himself at the war-cry, the old marital
spirit burned again within him.
He wrote to his son before he eft
England, and the next thing the yong
man heard was that his father lad
died IN the hardest and best fought m
gagement. and that a whole nation hon
ored HIM as a hero, so full of COURAGE
and brave deeds was that short military
career.
The young heir came down to tale
possession. Alas! it wa but a moekeY
of forms and deeds. There was not
ing for him to inherit, save huge bundls
of bills; the broad, fair lands of h5
fathers were heavily mortgaged; and
hearing of Sir Stephens death, the fri
who had advanced the money now call
ed it in.
My father was left as guardian to 81
Walter, who had then attained HI
twentieth year; and long and deep WEI
the consultations between him and b.
young ward. There was. perhaps, T.
legal force binding upon poor Walter I
pay his fathers debts. lie might hay
avoided them, and have raised th
mortgage money; but be was a Bohun
to whom honor was far dearer than life
81 am young" said Walter TO m,
father, land l must work. Others hayt
had a harder fate than mine. | love O.
profession, and l must live by it."
But strange pain smote him as h'
fhouoht of sailing that which his An