The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1888-12-20

CHAPTER III.
A year had elapsed since Lucy Dawbarn
had hidden farewell to her fathers clerk
through the dining room door. He had left
| Dramlinglon and gone no one knew whittier.
! Neither letter nor message came to Lucy; she
was too strictly watched She often walked
| in tho garden and looked at that portion OF
] the wall where they had concea.ed their let
tiers. The good old brick that they
used to take out and put bach
again was a thing of the past
| In its place there was n bran new red DricL
| 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 hcI
| fathers and mothers relatives but the ma
mates OF the county, aud had seen all sorts
pleasures and fashion and distraction, and at
the end of six months had returned very thin
ard pale.
She had been home but a few weeks when
the news came that young Munro had sailed
from Liverpool for New York. 1t reached
Lucy's ears through n sympathetic servant
maid The next morning she sent word that
she would like to have n cup of ten sent to
| her up stairs in her own room as she had n
headache and begged to be excused from the
breakfast table. Mrs. Dawbarn knew that
she had heard of Munro's departure for
America, but she did not dare to mention
even the name of tho Objectionable clerk to
her husband, who was entirely ignorant of the
young mans movements. Two or three days
after the doctor was sent for The medical
man hummcd and hawed and said that his
patient was low Lucy grew worse and worse
| A consultation was held. The young ladys
disorder was pronounced to be nervous fever,
/ md ntt.bi To al
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 malady
is partly mental She has here no employ
mcnt, that is, no fresh employment for her
mind. If you could substitute new duties,
| fresh impressions, she would recover quickly
Her energy is wearing her to pieces; she
wants, SO to speak, to begin her life over
| again. Tiff her partner has not yet been
chosen"-hero the eyes of the father and
| mother met-"let her travel let her choose
| an occupation, give her something to do.
| know n young lady-much the same kind of
case-who took to painting, and found con-
| siderable benefit from the study and the
| practice. Italy, now, might create a desire
| to cultivate some art-say music ehl 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 Braml .ngdon she had to be lifted
| from the carriage Her father who had not
seen her for two months, was struck with the
visible alteration in 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 20 to bed. Mr. Dawbarn de-
seconded to dine with his wife, and meeting
on the stairs with the sympathetic house
maid who had informed Lucy of Mmro's de
parture for America, and asking the girl
why She was crying, aud receiving for an
swer that it was for Miss Lucy, he discharged
her ON the spot,
1t was dismal dinner Husband ard wife
spoke but little and when one CAUGHT the
the others eye there was a great show of ap-
petite Mr. Dawbarn 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 Iucv's
room to look at her as she Law sleeping, Mr.
DIwburn put his arm around his wifes waist
and kissed her on the forehead n proceeding
which made the good old lady trcmble very
much and her mouth and nostrils CULVER
Side by side in the dark the couple lay
awake in their luxurious chamber, starting
at the reflection of the window frame upon
the blinds The father began
"Jemima"
"Philip,n said the mother
"What do you think of Lucy77
The mother heaved deep sigh
Good God' said the banker, when I
took her up in my arms could hardly feel
her weight She was like feather-like a
feather. Jomima, 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: II fear that we
shall lose her.
1t was spoken, and death was recognized
as presence in the house.
"D'yc think there's no hopper
"Only one, and that very poor one"
Mr.. D1wbarn felt mental qualm for he
kpew what was coming
whats thatl' he asked
you'll be angry with me, Philip, if l tell
you"
''Angry, my dear1 no, no. not a Bit" said |
the father
You know what mean"
The banker sighed
"Do you mean"- he beam
YES, ! do" replied the mother "If Lucy
could see or hear Of that young man, be-
eve she would recover I'm sure it would
10 her good"
There was a long pause. Mr.. Dawbarn
yroaned in spirit, but he felt that his wife
was right
81 had such better views for her." groaned
he banker
Yes, my dear, know you had" said the
wife, pressing his hand
Lord Landringa was most particular in
lis attentions, and Sir Theophilus Hawdon
absolutely spoke to me about her."
~ know he did," said the acquiescent wife
"Think Of Lucy being Lady Landringa or
lady Hawdoni county people-and then Of
Ter being Mrs. ohT'
"Its sad thing dear, but what can we
10 now that she's SO ill-poor thing And II
ve could save her life"--
Mr.. Dawbarn turned in the bed. I'm ask
ropham about it tomorrow" (Topham was
he doctor,) an hear his opinion