Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1888-02-19


him.
HE does not look TO me as il he'd
last long" Mrs. Pollard said.
Peter answered: Poor Jenny what
will become of her? i must try to find
something for her 10 do"
"Oh, that will be very easy" and the
self-elected mistress smiled craitily. 81
am in the way OF hearing about people
wanting girls, and / won't forget Jenny"
Only that Mrs. Grant kept assuring
her that Peter was so very bashful OF
proposing when he knew there was
money, Cousin Selma would have been
a little disappointed that, without say
ing word, he permitted her to go away.
She asked HIM to come and see her
and he said he would
When would he come?
Oh, when the harvest was in. Work
for a time would then be over, and he
might indulge in little pleasure.
Mrs. Pollard, by the light Of inclina-
ton, saw a meaning in this answer, and
more graciously went away.
The corn, green then, had since grown
golden. and had bowed its head to the
sickle. Several messages had been sent
by Selma. and Mrs. Grant felt, If the
prize was to be secured, there be no
more delay.
She had chosen this evening to open
the question, and her starting point, as
we have seen, was:
"Peter, You must marry"
After the allusion to his dead wife and
the years during which he had remained
a widower, a silence ensued, employed
by Mrs. Grant in deciding upon the
most vulnerable spot 10y which she could
touch her son.
of it's only on account Of the boy,
to give him the care of mother, you
ought TO marry" she began.
Peter looked up. The welfare OF the
boy was quite another matter.
Il should not say what | would do,
continued Mrs. Grant, elf | felt | could
stay here, but | can't, Peter. AT my
time o. life new homes amt made so
easy. l miss my chapel and my old
friends, to saving nothing o your Sis
tiers. who think it very hard that they
should be counted nobodies; and,
fond as | am O you, children Is children,
and | was never one to set the claims o
one above the claims o the others OF
You"
Il feel it's very kind in you to stay
as YOU have done" Peter SAID dolefully.
"Of course It's too much for me to ex-
moot Won are Going to remain altogether I;
but the boy IS young yet. In three or
four years or So and he hesitated,
while Mrs. Grant laughed grimly.
"A very nice pickle he'll be, " she said
sarcasticaily. ~ know quite well when
ever it comes to the boy you never take
it well TO be spoke to plainly, but I'm
only cchoing the words of all around
when say that of all the unruly, I'M
governable young Turks twas ever my
fate to see, your boy beats EN-"
"But he's such a mere baby, put IN
Peter piteously.
Hes a baby now, but as the years
lengthen so the twig strengthens. How
ever, the bringing up of your child Is
your own business, not mine; only DO
say, that let him grow into what he may,
you'll only have yourself to thank for 1t. a."
Peters face became clouded. Was it
true what his mother was saying, that
the child, who was as the apple OF his
eve, would grow up vagabOnd for the
want OF proper training? Working as
he was forced to, from morning until
bedtime, he could get little more than a
glimpse of his darling, who ran the fields
at his own sweet will. either in company
with older CATER Jeffrey--now nearly as
childish as the tiye-year-old Peter him
self-or with his granddaughter Jenny,
the youngest on the farm next to little
Peter.
Poor Jenny had a very sad history,
but little Peter knew nothing OF 1t and
now that the old master was dead and
the new one. instead OF taunting her,
gave her kind word when he met her,
the girl was as happy as 1t was natural
at seventeen years old to be.
"The child always looks so healthy
and happy whenever ! see him, SAID
Peter, resuming the conversation with
his mother
Most of us is happy when we're
having everything our own way.
There was another silence between
them.
But mother, suppose / was willing
to marry, don't know OF any body who d
have me.
Mrs. Grant threw her sharp eyes on
the face which was looking at her.
Don't you?" she SAID. "Weu, l
do" Peters eyes opened wide.
"The saying is that there's none so
blind as they that won't see, and pom my
word, unless you shut 'em o purpose,
what Selma Pollard did here in the spring
and for ever inviting you over to see her
is more than | can say
"What, COUSIN Selma, do You mean
Oh, mother, you're mistaken. No. no.
"All right only if I'm mistook so IS
she, too, and the sooner you undecelve
her the more manly it will be in you"
But such thing never entered into
nv head. / don't know that like her.
"All the more pity, then, that she
should have shown liking for you; not
that | ever imagined for an instant, after
all your talk ABOUT her that's dead AMI
gone, that it was likely you'd burst into
a blaze like bush O broom but plenty
of marriages turn out well where there S
been precious little love to start with"
"She never seemed to make much
account of the boy while she WAS here,
said Peter reflectively.
well, perhaps you'll tell me when
she'd the opportunity. I'm his grandma
Their, and, 'cepin is at meals when 'len-
ny brings him in, manys the day that
goes by with me never so much as clap
ping eyes on him. OF course I've had
my say about old Jeffreys and his grand
daughter too, so there's no need to have
that over again but if I'm asked whe-
Their a eyil-looking old poacher and a
girl whose bringing into the world don
make her fit company for anybody is
the right people to bring up my grand
child with, my answer is No"
Peter looked vexed. Mrs. Grant had
always been terribly preiudiced against
poor Jenny, whom 1t was the habit on
the farm to make the scapegrace for all
that went wrong. Without father,
mother, or any one she could lay claim
10, the girl bad grown up doing the
stern bidding of her grandfather, and
so much OF his work that those around,
,,nro;rdf,,I that n was from neceSsity