Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1888-12-22

the wall where they had concealed their let
ters The good old brick that they
used to take out and put back
again was thing of the past.
| In it's place there was bran new red brick
cemented by bran new white mortar that you
could see a mile off. Lucy had been to Lon
don, and had been visiting not only her
fathers and mothers relatives but the mag
mates of the county, and had seen all sorts of
pleasures and fashion and distraction, and at
/ the end of six months had returned very thin
and pale.
She had been home but few weeks when
the news came that young Munro had sailed
| from Liverpool for New York. 1t reached
Lucys ears through a sympathetic servant
maid. Tho next morning She sent word that
she would like to have a cup of tea sent to
her up stairs in her own room, as she had a
headache and begged to be excused from the
breakfast table Mrs Dawbarn knew that
she had heard of Munros departure for
America, but she did not dare to mention
even the name of the Objectionable clerk to
her husband, who was entirely ignorant of the
young mans movements. Two or three days
after tho doctor was sent for. The medical
man humned and hawed and said that his
patient was low Lucy grew worse and worse.
A consultation was held. The young lady's
disorder Was pronounced to be nervous fever,
and one white headed old gentleman from
London suggested to Mr.. and Mrs. Dawbarn
that if the young lady were engaged he
should not advise the postponement Of the
ceremony.
''You see. my dear Mr. Dawbarn," said the
old gentleman, ''your dear daughters nalady
is partly mental. She has here no employ
meat, that is, no fresh employment for her
mind If you could substitute new duties,
| fresh Impressions she would recover quickly
Hel energy is wearing her to pieces; she
wants, SO to speak, to begin her life over
again. lift her partner has not vet been
chosenn-here the eyes of the father and
mother mct-'let her travel, let her choose
an occupation, give her something to do.
know q your .ly-much the same kind of
case -Dok to painting, and found con-
! lie beIfefit from the study and the
! practice Italy, now, might create desire
| to cultivate some art-say music, Ell? Your
dear daughter is not strong; her mind is too
much for her BODY
Lucy was taken to Harrogate, to Chelten-
! ham, to bennington and Scarborough then
! to the south of France and Italy. When she
| returned to Bramlingdon she had to be lifted
| from the carriage. Her father, who had not
! seen her for two months, wa1 struck with the
visible alteration i'll her face and figure He
himself carried her to her room and was
hardly conscious Of his burden. She
said she was tired with her Journey
and would go 20 bed. Mr. Dawbarn de-
scended to dine with MS wife, and meeting
on the stairs with the sympathetic house
maid who had informed Lucy of Munro's de-
parture for America, and asking the girl
why she was crying, and receiving for an
swer that it was for Miss Lucy, he discharged
her. on the spot
1t WAS a dismal dinner. Husband and wife
| spoke but little, and when one caught the
the others eye there was great show of APP
petite. Mr.. Dawban drank considerable
| quantity of sherry. When the cloth was re-
moved the conversation tagged Neither
| dared begin the consultation they felt was
| inevitable, Before they went into Lucv's
room to look at her as she lay sleeping, Mr..
| D1wburn put his arm around his wifes waist
ard kissed her on the forehead, proceeding
which made the good old lady tremble very
| much and her mouth and nOstrls culver
Side by side in the dark the couple lay
awake in their luxurious chamber, starting
at the reflection of the window franc upon
the blinds. The father began.
"Jemima"
"Philip," said the mother
''What do you think Of Lucy?"
The mother heayed q deep sigh
| Good God!' said the banker "when I
| took her up in my arms | could hardly feel
| her weight. She was like a feather-like
| feather. Jemima, you're crying, my love.
| Tell me, honestly, now, honestly, candidly,
as you think Tell me, tell me"
The wife threw her arm around her hus-
bands neck and sobbed: Il fear that we
| shall lose her"
1t was spoken, and death was recognized
as a presence in the house.
''D'ye think there's no hope?"
Only one and that 4 very poor one"
Mr.. Dawbarn felt mental qualm, for he
knew what was coming.
"What's that+' he asked.
you'll be angry with me, Philip, if I tell
you"
ANGRY, my dear' no, no, not Bit" said
the father
you know what I mean"
The banker sighed.
"Do YOU mean'- he began.
Yes, I do, replied the mother eff Lucy
could see or hear of that young man, be-
lievc she would recover. I'm sure it would
do her good"
There was a long pause. Mr.. Dawbarn
groaned in spirit, but he felt that his wife
was right.
Il had such better views for her." groaned
the banker.
Eyes, my dear, know you had," said the
wife, pressing his hand.
| Lord Landringa was most particular in
his attentions, and Sir TheophilIs Hawdon
absolutely spoke to me about her"
Il know he did, said the acquiescent wife
''Thinl Of Lucy being Lady Landringa or
Lady Hawdon county reople-and then of
her being Mrs - ohr'
Its sad thing, dear, but what can we
do now that she's 50 ill-poor thinGi And if
We could save her life'-
Mr.. Dawbarn turned in the bed ''I'n ask
Topham about it tomorrow" (Topham was
the doctor) "Tll hear his opinion
II have asked him" said the mother, ''and
he agrees with men
But how can it be done!" asked the
banker turning again restlessly. II can't
ask the fellow to marry my daughter"
''No but you can offer him a situation in
the bank"
Suppose he refuses"
she won't refusen
"But how can l find him? Where is hegn
| tST,, Ar,oripa , oncyvarad NTrc DavrIorr