The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1888-02-18

ten0 Oh an old musty dressing-caSe
that had been my fathers. Where can
it be? That old garnet ring with the
queer underground in it that feel sure
will let this thin wedding ring slip into
it and so keep my secret from prying
eyes.
All! with hot. trembling fingers I find
it. 1t docs exactly as / thought it
would do.
With that broad Old ring always on.
need fear no discovery. None but my
self would know that under it lay
another. the tiny circ.et of gold bind
ing me stronger than iron bands could
do to my ''dear love-"
During the day my old uncle is taken
much worse and he Will let no one be
near him but me. William comes in
and out Of the room, but am tied to
it nearly all the day, till towards even
ing my uncle falls into deep sleep
and ! can safely leave him with his
nurse. It was rambling old house.
Norlington Farm. and it had been my
only home now for nearly seven years,
all of which time William Maplcson
had lived as my uncle's steward and
helper under the same roof.
1t has been hard. self-denying life
for him, perhaps; but for rne-or rather
for his love for me-he would never
have borne it. Till latterly the hard old
man had never discovered our love;
and when he had there was no more
peace for US under his roof.
He had ragged and stormed. declaring
that no niece of his should marry Will
lam Mapleson, on pain of disinherit-
ance.
Mine was always a weak. timid ma
ture. Perhaps some women Il was no
longer young girl; my thirtieth birth
day had come and gomez would have
actively resented his tyranny and as
serted their individual rights; / could
not. Twas in his power; for when my
parents died he had taken me in.
pcnnilcss girl. and had from that time
given me. in his particular hard way,
all that needed to live-not but some
would have felt they fully earned such
keep.
Iscarccly ever looked at it in that
way.
/ had been weak and helpless. alone
in the world, not very strong in health,
when he had come to my fathers
funeral; and after paying all expenses.
had simply said: Nov go and pack
up your kit You must come with me
to Norlington Farm. Can't say. I'm
sure. what old Betty will say; but there's
nothing else, as see. to be done. Re-
member, my girl. tits not lady's life 1
am offering you; but suppose you are
not too fine lady to know what work
meansP"
IF had been then. all was corrected
by now. During these seven years
have worked hard aud lived hard.
Yet there are those who say that old
Peter Glennie is worth half a million of
money.
My golden week Of happiness is gone;
but although William is gone, am
strangely content
/ do not regret the step have taken.
Since the morning after my marriage
my uncle had been better and quieter.
Old Mr.. Baines. the lawyer. had been
with him full hour that morning, and
old Jenkyns had been called into his
room to sign his name to some docu-
ment together with the hired nurse.
HE is . miserable old man," she
said to me the other day. Il suppose
it's his will we signed. What grudge
he seems to have against marriage.
He growls continually. even in his sleep. |
about fools getting marriedr'
"Ah!" said: "he has never mar
RED"
mo" she laughed. II should not |
say any one was the loser by that
either"
He had called her at this moment,
and was left alone to overhear a con-
between old Jenkyns and |
Betty, who, being both deaf, were talk
ing over the same matter in the kitchen.
'Ah, well. Betty. it's hard day for
the farm when Mr.. William goes away;
and how'll the old master do wi new |
steward at his tonne o. life. wonder?'
He knows what he's about, never |
you fear. Do'ee think for moment |
as how he don't know a. letting him go |
is the only way o. preventin' a mar
riage between he and Miss Norah? Ha!
ha! ha!'
As hear her cunning old laugh at
my expense ] sit hngging my love to
my heart.
Old Betty always owed me grudge |
for coming to Norlington Farm.
although she had been compelled to
show me ordinary civility.