New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1886-06-16
ward was. She said he mad been
Iaway;but had returned the preceding

-
+ | suppose he made too much noise
for the parent, was my mental COM
ment, and then said, taking up as l
spoke a toy COW as passport to my
wards favor, "Please show me the
nursery In my preoccupation Ihad
spoken English, and the French ser
want only stared. "Montrez moi-a-
la chambre de lui," I added desper-
ately, mixing up in my dire confusion
the words OF this beautiful language
in my effort to be understood. She
silently led the way, and [ followed,
till she reached the room in question;
there she knocked and left me- The
door was thrown open and instead OF
a smiling nurse holding the hand ofmy
childish ward. beheld young man
about 10 or 20 years ofage, who look
ed lnquiringly at me. l felt perfectly
helpless, and clutched the unoffending
COW so firmly that it turned it's head
and gave a despairlng "moo." Then
1 said, with an effort. "Ithink Ihave
made mistake in the room Can you
tell me where Mr.. Langton's son
stays?"
II am his son. he answered, look
ing at me much as if l had been an
escaped lunatic. Yes; my worst an
ticipations had proved only too true,
and the whole situation. lay open be-
fore me. How stupid OF me never to
have imagined such a development Of
the case! How could I ever be the
guardian of such ayoung man as this?
It was too preposterous. No; Gerald
Langton must look elsewhere for Sin
valuable advice"
Icould have laughed and cried when
l thought OF this sudden termination
of my many plans, and then my
wards voice broke in upon my re-
Fiction, and at the sound [ mentally
resolved not to betray myself, and
listened with the calmness of despair.
He was saying, els this my guardians
sister? | heard that you came yes
terday." eyes," I answered in my
same idiotic manner, and then he
asked me to come in and tell him
about my brother. Oh, that con.
versation! After the first few seconds
all my timidity, or rather stupidity,
vanished, and talked, talked, talked.
What said cannot even remem-
Der, but there was certain humor in
the situation,a as when my ward grave
ly told me that he especially admired
the opinion OF a crusty old uncle in
my unfortunate book, who thought it
very unwomanly to depart from the
beaten trade as he considered it, in fe-
males attempting to write books. l
groaned inwardly, and changed the
subject by saying, with animation, 81
had no idea, Mr. Laughton, that you
were so dreadfully DID," He laughed
and glanced at the toy Istill held.
''Then that accounts foryour aston
ishment, and perhaps for the COW also.
But my age is more my misfortune
than my fault, so l hope you will not
deprive me OF the pleasure of playing
with it or anything else of the kind
you may have brought for my amuse-
ment."
Yes, if the truth must be told, be-
gan even to enjoy the position, al
though such thoughts as "unwoman-
ly conduct, unseemly deception, and
my fathers outraged dignity" would
haunt me at times. My father did
not appear that day, and every time
I talked with my ward 1 liked him
better and better. He was handsome
and intelligent, if showing at times
strong prejudices, as in his over-strain-
ed opinion of female authoresses. I
could tell, also, that he did not un-
derstand my brothers delay in COM
ing, and felt rather hurt by it. That
light l had a long argument with my
father, which resulted in his promis.
ing not to betray me, at least without
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
minding the position at all. Stillglrls
were queer about some things, and he
would not interfere, since seemed so
determined on concealment. This was
all that wanted, for knew my aunt
would second my fathers views; and
when a month ofpleasant companion
ship with my ward had ensued, I began
to fancy that these halcyon days were
to continue indefinitely.
Alas for the fallibility of human
foresight! Just as [ had assured my
oeu LHdC lily LfOuDlo WAS eHueu, aC
least for some time, received a 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 1 had been
bothered with all the letters about that
old book that he had, so he wrote,
| would think so too. His great
est grievance seemed to be the COM
munications received from old women,
whowould persist in seeing close resem-
blances to their dear departed sons,
nieces, grandchildren or something, in
the characters of my poor little story.
Then there were applicants 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 importunely hand
ed me over all the fame and all the
trouble, and said he had already told
everyone whom he had seen that T