The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1886-02-26
A MAID FORLORN.


Dut you have had walk eNclaims the
housekeeper, lifting her hands in dis
may. Why, It is -four miles from here
Dy the common, and eight by the road,
ana what an evening for such a Jour
hey. See-hOw dark the night has
grown drawing aside the curtains 10
peer out 1 feaT no human being
nnd his way TO Branksmere this hour,
IN such weather, unless he knew the
road well, and even then 10 would be
dangerous 10 make the attempt. Hear
IoN Jhe storm RACES. and the wind
howls, and the snow comes thick and
last. II IS wild time, I'm thinking,
We shall have before the morning. But
rest easy, miss, If, as you say, you told
your mamma You were going to the vii
lHse, she VIII believe you are safe there
WIN Mrs StiltOn of the inn"
hope so" says Cissy, with a sigh.
Al this moment there is a knock at
the door, and somebody, without wait
ing 1or permission, opens it and walks
DoIdIy IN. The newcomer is a young
man OF about twenty-nine, tall, and
nnely formed, with a well-shaped head.
30 much can be diScerned in the shad-
ow; and then he comes quickly up to
the table, right within the ray Of the
lamp, SO that Cissy can see him distinct
ly.
He is evidently "the master. ." the hero
OF the hOur- the one ingredient indis-
q
romance INTO the adventure; and there
lore IL is sadly dlspiTiting that at first
slghI ClsSy must acknowledge him dis
appointing. In spite of his fine figure
and commanding height, he is like any
thlng IN De world but a Greek god. In
fact he is decidedly plain. His mouth
Is large, ms nose Is long, his eyes-his
only redeeming featuTe-are a dark
gray, kindly and honest. His hair does
not admit of description. being crop
ped so closely TO his head in the pre-
vaIllng fashion of the present dav, as to
be almost invisible. His forehead is
somewhat too square. vet there IS a
gentlenesS, a brightness, and withal an
amount OF strength about his face that
TedeemS its want Of beauty.
May | come in, Mrs. Rchards?" saws
the young man, with a smile that lights
his whole face-perhaps ne is smiling
Al the aIsUTdty OF his question. de-
Hyered from the middle Of the room.
Mrs. Richards cOuTtesieS and bids
HIM welcome. Then he comes a little
nearer, even TO the hearth-rug. and adj
dresses himself to his unexpected guest.
Peters has Just told me Of your un-
lucky walk lie says, politely. 4 am
so sorry about It. but glad more than [
can say that you found your way here"
He is gazing with suppressed. but
evident curiosity at the pretty girl, who
appears half lost in the embrace Of the
big armchair, and who has raised her
self and is gazing back at him shyly,
with heightened color, but clear earn
est eyes.
81 hope you are quite comfortable"
he goes on. with increased cOrdialitY,
now he has seen her. L know Mrs.
Richards has done all she can for you:
but"-hosp spitably-"dinner is ready, and
you must be hungry. you know, and l
thought | would come in myself and
ask you to dine with me. There is no
body but myself"
This wind-up to his speech is so naive
that Miss Rivers has much ado to sup
press the smile that turks in the corners
of her mouth, threatening every mo-
ment to betray her. This is an advent
ure with a vengeancel She begins to
feel like heroine in novel, all but in
one point. He is right; she is hungry,
dlSgracefully, most unrOmantiCally
hungry. and thinks with a pleasure not
to be subdued of the dinner beyond.
An hour ago when first she arrived,
she had felt too exhausted to partake of
anything Mrs. Richards had laid before
her; but, now that recovery had set in
and warmth and rest have done their
work, she can not help remembering
she has eaten nothing since two O'Clock,
and that it is now almost seven. Yet
will it not be rather a strange thing to
And vet again, viii it not seem prudish
to refuse, as evidently he sees nothing
in it? In her perpleXity she glances ap-
pealingly at the only other woman in
the room.
Mrs. Richards is equal to the occa-
sion.
Il think, Miss Rivers, some dinner
will do you good" she says, respectful
ly. You have eaten nothing since you
came. And, if you viii permit me, /
shall have cup of tea for you here di-
rectly dinner IS at an end
Now this last is master-stroke on
the part of Mrs. Richardsl 1t gives
Cissy a feeling Of protection, sort of
conviction that she belongs to Mrs.
Richards, and that-though parted
from her for a little while-she will
be expected to return and
deliver herself up to her rightful owner.
She smiles at Mr., CTaven--Cissy'
smile is a thing of beautyand joy for
overland, rising, accepts, the arm he
offers her, and walks away Will, him de-
muTely to the dining-Foom. with the
utmost gravity vet with a good deal of
converse, they both get through
a capital dinner; and, by the time 1t is
ended, they discover they both know
almost everything it is necessary to
know about each other.
Cissv has had a little claTet, has eaten
all the walnuts Mr.. Craven has broken
for her. and an unlimited supply OF
caudied fruit. when an Ormom clock
somewhere behind her tinkles softly.
SHE starts little, and turning, sees 1t
on the chimney-pTece, and that II Is
half past eight. t...
so late!" she murmtlrS- NnO could
have believed itr"
she dances at her host, her face full
of genUiue surprise, and he feels in
tenselv fiatteTed.
81 am so glad YOU haven t felt bored"
he saye DOlltely, carefully SuppreSsIng
the warmth he could willingly have
thrown into his tone. -
Bored No. indeed" But here
memory whispers in her ear. Her eX-
prpssion changes, and she SlanceS IN
Voluntarily toward one of the windows.
sT could dllite say have enjoyed my
self - she says, with IdtieI penSlVe
smile If were positive mamma is not ]
at this moment enduring agohles OF
fright on my account.
Size rises from her chair; so does Mr..
Craven from his; and, as though OWN
inc her thought. he goes to tne window,
oDens the shutters. and, throwing up
ne sash. they both gaze upon the thick
dar,,upss without. 1t is sun showing.
G1nof tbe sill the fakes have grown and
mounted until they have reached the
E,-sf name. with d shiver he pulls down
tLe sash and they return to the CRATE
ful fire. -bo bsIio,,,s -,
80 IN ti,e Village. under Mrs. Stilton's
oar, T" be saws. soothingly, anxious to
restore re-. her TO peace of mind. =.
..She may. if she has not sent a mes
,e,,re1. 10 fhe village TO inquire Is the
answer.
~0n. no. she wouldn't do that, you
know. such severe night. " no would I
Sone int. /" neasseIts, earnestly, though !
II would have puzzled him to give
reason for his assertion.
"You think she has not: 'lsss Cech.