San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-06-11


We came little by little, as l have already
intimated to see good deal of him; more
in the summer however, than in the winter,
when was glad enough to stay at home in
the evenings, when got there, and he felt
naturally, at his age, equally indisposed to
turn out. But in the long, light days he was
fond of dropping in on us after dinner, and
if we should sometimes have preferred being
to ourselves we were careful never to show it.
We we're flajtered by the fancy he seemed to
have taken to US, and sorry for his loneliness,
and do not pretend but that we appreciated
the fact that he might, if he would, be good
friend to u.s.
1t was in the course of the second summer
of our acquaintance that one Sunday even
ing after church we came up with him lean
ing over the palings of an old fashioned
house, at some distance from our own.
1t stood back in its own grounds a
good distance from the road, and such
glimpses of the building itself as We're to be
obtained through the screen interposed by
the trees and shrubs in front of it, gave one
the idea of a sufficiently gloomy exterior.
We had remarked upon its dismal and unoc-
cupied appearance more than once, and Won
dered, seeing how long it remained appar-
emily untenanted, at the absence of any indi-
cation that it was to be either sold or let, but
we were not prepared for Mr.. Van Decker
manns first words.
"You have brought me back to the pres
ent,' ne replied. 81 had gone back further
than you could go, either of you. That was
my fathers house; the house in which I was
born and bred. 1t has remained as he left it,
with such patching up as has been positively
necessary, ever since he died.
"But not empty, as it is now? Somebody
has lived in it since then, surely?" my wife
said timidly.
'The old couple who take care of it, no
body else" he replied, as we walked away
from it. Everybody has a craze of some
sort, they say, Mrs. Thurnell, and that is
mine. You have heard of certain rooms in a
house being kept sacred to the memory of
certain people? Why should not go little
further and keep the whole house so, when
am about it!'
The sharp tore and the laugh that accom-
panied it grated on the ears of us both, and
my wifes hand pressed my arm a little ner-
vously as she answered:
Certainly, you have right to do what
you like with your own If you did not care
to live in it yourself
He turned round upon her before she had
time to finish the sentence striking the
ground with his stick as though he would
have driven it into it to emphasize his words,
and repeating them after her in shrill fall
setto voice, which bore evidence to his ex-
element.
Live in it myself-I-after oil that had
happened in It'll l would rather have begged
my bread on the roads - rather - Good
heavens! what would l not rather? But
there, beg your pardon" he added, cooling
down. Il can't expect you to understand,
how should you! If you had spent there the
most miserable boyhood, barring one thing,
that ever man had to look back to, you
would hate it as do"
"And yet you don't get rid of it alto
gether!' l interposed at this juncture. "Why
not pull it down and sell the land for build
ing upon? You would make a good thing
of it."
why not? Because I am a fool, sup
pose, )" he returned CURLY. Because, if there
are many memories for which hate it, there
are few for which love it. What was it
saw in your little maids, do you suppose, but
a likeness to another little maid, dead and
buried long ago-the only bit of sunshine
that ever strayed within those four walls, the
only creature that loved me- or that had to
love. She was my cousin, and she was an
orphan. How she came to be left to my
fathers care never clearly understood, but
she came to us before could remember, and
she was more to him than ever was. There
was too good reason that he should not care
much for me. He had not been fortunate in
his marriage, and it had soured him, but he
must have been hard and cruel to begin with.
or he could never have done by his own flesh
and blood as he did by me- was not good
at my books, what cleverness had lay in an
other direction, and, unhappily for me, l
went to day school, so that my fathers eye
was never off me, and he took it upon him
self to see that did the task that was set me.
There was no kind of punishment he did not
resort to. was logged, starved, imprisoned
by turns. 1t was as though he thought
he was wreaking his vengeance upon
my mother through me. The only