Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-04-22
timiditv. or rather stupidity. vanished, and
talked. talked, talked

What | said cannot even r0mcuUcTs
but there was certain humor in the STU
alton, as when my ward gravely told me
that he especially admired the opinion OF
a crusty old uncle in my unfortunate
book, who though: it very unwomanly to
depart from the beaten track, as he con-
sidered it, in females attempting to write
books. | groaned inwardly and changed
the subject by saying. with animation, 81
had no idea, Mr.. Langton, that you were
so dreadfully old" He laughed. and
glanced at the toy still held.
"Then that accounts for your astonish-
ment and perhaps for the COW, also. But
nv age is more nv misfortune than my
fault so hope you will not deprive me
of the pleasure OF playing with it or any
thing else OF the kind you may have
brought for my amusement"
Yes, if the truth must be told, | began
even to enjoy the position. although such
thoughts as "unwomanly conduct. I'M
seemly deception, and my fathers out
ragged dignity" would haunt me at times.
My father did not appear that day. and
every time | talked with my ward liked
him better and better. He was handsome
and intelligent, if showing at times strong
preiudices as in his overstrained opinion
of female authoress. | could tell, also,
that he did not understand my brothers
DELAY in coming, and felt rather hurt by
it, That night | had a long argument
with my father, which resulted in his
promising not to betray me, at least, with
out giving me warning, although he re-
marked several times that he could not
see the sense of putting off what had to be
done. or indeed, in my mindng the
position at all. Still, girls were queer
about some things, and he would not in
terfere. since | seemed so determined on
conceament. This was all that wanted,
for | knew my aunt would second my
fathers views. and when month of
pleasant companionship with my ward
had ensued, began to fancy that these
halcyon days were to continue indefinitely.
Alas tor the fallibiity of human fore
sight Just as had assured myself that
nv trouble was ended at least for some
time. received letter from my brother
which completely destroyed my peace of
mind In it he said he thought it
time to resign the doubtful honor which he
held in being generally known as the
author of '.Brakesdale," and if had been
bothered with all the letters about that old
book that he had, so he wrote. | would
think so. too. His greatest grievance
seemed to be the communications received
from old women who would persist in
seeing close resemblances to their dear,
departed sons, neices, grandchildren, or
something else, in the characters of my
poor little story. Then there were appli-
cants who wanted to know what the
author Of 'Brakesdale" would have made
his hero do in case he had been disinherit-
ed by some rich relation whose money
they expected, ETC., etc. In short. my
elder brother most inopportunely handed
me over all the fame and all the trouble,
and said be had already told every one
whom he had seen, that |, and not he,
held the unenviable position of originator
of "Brak sdale," and that he had had moth
ing whatsoever to do with if. He conclud-
ed by asking how my ward was getting
on, and said he expected to join us during
the following month.
80, 'Brakesdale !! 'Brakesdale ," in
wardly exclaimed when l had finished
reading the letter; what an old nuisance
you have been, and what an Incompatible
bore you are going to ber' But ana
thematizing my devoted story would not
help me out of the scrape any, and at last
| decided on confession.
But here was met half way by another
unavoidable complication, that like a
gnost, arose before me, and showed itself
the keynote of all my misery, l found
that had already reached the stage when
| could not bear to face the disgust felt
sure would come upon me when | had
told my ward that not only was | an au-
thoress, and, as such, unwomanly, but,
worst of all, that | had been acting all
along under false pretences, aad, if not
indulging in falsehood. had taken chief
part in this long course of deception. But
it would be better to tell all, and, indeed,
was forced to do so.
Invent down stairs and found Gerald
standing before the fireplace in the cozy
drawing room. He came quickly towards
me and said
81 am so glad you have come. for |
have something to tell you which cannot
bear to keep any longer to myself"
grasped this last straw of temporary
deliverance it would at least put off the
hour of disclosure. and eagerly asked
what it was. Then he took both my hands
in his and looked earnestly into my face.
Can you not tell what it is ?" he said.
Then for the first time | noticed his az
itation and manner. and | felt the hot
blood rush up and crimson my tell-tale
face. could almost hear my heart beat.
Was it fear or Joy, or sorrow? | could
only look at him, and then he said: IL
see that you understand. O,Helen, Helen.
viii you not take nv love? | know well
that am not worthy of you, but would
try TO be so. Oh! my darling, answer
me-
Then 1. the culprit, in my great happi-
ness forgot all. and could only whisper,
yes" The bliss of the minutes that fol-
lowed. Gerald was softly quoting those
dear familiar lines:
"And the stars shall fall, and the angels be weeping
Ere cease to love thee, my queen, my queen"
when remembered my unfortunate book
and said: Would you think Just as
much OF me, or would you consider me
very unwomanly, if by some strange
chance |. and not my brother, had written
'Brakesdale? p"
NO" he answered readily. Brakes
dale is an exceptional book, and should
only be very proud of you had you writ.
ten it. But you did not, did voup"
Yes" answered. IL did"
Then what praise from one who was
dearer to me than all the world beside
But had not yet told the worst. Would
Gerald take so kindly to the rest of nv
confession? | feared not. Then his voice