Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-02-14
THE WHITE LADY.
ny THE AUTHOR OF his Welded WIFE,
"a FATAL DowER," ''sIR PHILIPS
WARDS" &c.
PART L-BY JEAN TREDEGAR

PART I-BY JEAN TREDEGAR.
Guy and 1 had been orphans from our
childhood, and we had now arrived at years
Of maturity. Our father, Guy Tredegar of
Tredegar in Cornwall, had been killed by q
fall from his horse while out hunting twenty
nine years before my story opens and Guy,
my dear and only brother, was born on the
day which followed his fathers death. !,
though was three years older than Guy,
could but lndlstlnctly remember the tall hand
some man who had tossed me up in his arms
one hne morning, laughingly bidding me be
good girl and not yeX ''little mamma" while
ne was away, and who was brought home, a
lew hours after, corpse. Scarcely more dis
tlnct were my recOllections of the little
mamma" he had loved so tenderly. had a
dim vision of fair sad face, bright waves Of
chestnut hair, and smile that had no sun
shine in it, smile sadder than tears.
Such was my mother as l remembered her,
totally unlike the bright lovely girl whose
likeness smiled down at US in the old gallery
"a radiant face, a graceful head thrown back
with a laughing glance at the baby which
ehe was carrying pick-a-back; and yet that
picture represented my mother and myself
khirty long years before. Happy years had
they been, only one heavy cloud having pass
ed over them five years ago to dim their sum
hine-years passed in the old Hall which we
Tredegars held so proudly and dearly-years
Of childish joys and gTiefs, OF the hopes and
aspirations of bOyhood and girlhood, of the
fuller sweetness and beauty Of manhood and
womanhOod, of the bitterness Of great sorrow
and the fulnesS Of peace. 1t is with mingled
feelings | recall them now. Yes, the bitter
was very bitter, and the sweet was very
sweet; but-ah me that it should be o!-the
bitter remains, while of the sweet we can
never taste again. Still, looking back, auntie
Oracle and | can think of the happiness with
gratitude, though we cannot yet think of the
trouble without pain, if indeed we ever shall
be able
Auntie Oracle was my fathers only sister,
and on his death had come to Tredegar,
where she has remained ever since; and she
has never let us miss either of our parents. l
was educated at home by her and my govern
esses; but Guy went to Elton and Oxford,
finishing up with the ''grand tour" after
which he settled down quietly at Tredegar
with us, his great ambition being to spend
the vast fortune which had been accommodating
80 long in making his tenants and the vii
layers perfectly happy and comfortable, turn
ing Tredegar into modern Utopia and do
ing as much good as he could in his day and
generation. f. by the laundering of fish
ing-smack on our rocky coast, happy wives
were made widows and their children father
less, and both rendered destitute, my broth
erSs purse was always ready; if the owner
of the smack were saved by the lifebOat Guy
had given to and supported at Tredegar, who
would replace the boat which won them bread
If not ''the Squire, Heaven bless 'em''? So
single-hearted genial and frank, dearly and
deseryedly loved, small marvel we glOried in
our Guyl
After he had been home with us some little
time, auntie Oracle one day told Guy half
seriously that he ought to marry. l remem-
Der how we laughed at his cOmical face of
distress as he faced her with the assertion
that two women were enough for any one
man to manage, and, having that number al
ready he did not wish any addition. All the
destinations of the neighbOring beauties, of
my young-lady visitors, of half dozen pref
ty cousins, every one of whom might have
been labelled dangerous" seemed lost upon
Guy. Remembering a day-dream which
had INDUCED in during the summer of my
life and the rude awakening from which had
settled things for me here, | felt sorry that
he should not know the happiness of requit-
ed love; that it would come later did not
doubt.
Three years ago Guy received pressing
summons from a cOllege-friend to join him in
winter tour through the South of France,
whittier he was going to recruit his strength
after long course of hard study which had
very materially affected his usually delicate
health. The friendship between Hugh Cor
don and my brother was very warm and sim
cere, and Guy did not hesitate to accede to
his request. They were to winter at Cannes,
Nice, or Mentone, whichever place suited
them best; and, as | babe Guy "Good-bye,"
said laughingIy-
Bring me back a little sister to love, Guy;
! want some one who will always keep you
at home"
Guy had been gone three months, and we
had heard from him only OccaSiOnally-for,
man-like, he was not very good correspond
ent-when one morning in the beginning of
March l received letter from him enclosing
" few pretty lines from and photograph of
ne who would ere the autumn be my sister.
you will try to love me, sister Jean, if not
Tor my own sake, then because l love him so
dearly" ran the dainty note. Il don't eX-
pect auntie Oracle or you to think of me as
he does; but, dear, will do my best my very
"'BERTIE LEoNHARDT."
L
mother was dead, and that her father had
married a second time-a young French lady
only five years older than BERTHE herself; that
they had been living at Mentone ever since
Mr. Leonhardt's death, two years before.
BERTHE was half French, Guy said, having
been entirely educated in France, and she
was just twenty-one. The photograph repre-
sented fair young girl with big dark eyes, a
graceful head, and very pretty tigure-by
no means beauty, but with something I'M
common and piquant about her which was
doubtless very attractive; and the little note,
so simply charming, bewitched auntie and
me. In a couple of months Guy returned
home. lie looked well and happy; but there
was change in his manner which we could
not fail to remark, an added SteadfaStneSS in
his dark gray eyes, a Sweeter, grayer smile
eurving his lip.
''Bertie and Mrs. Leonhardt will be here
early next month";" he said quietly to me. Il
think you will love her, Jean; she is very
frank and true. You are not sorry, dear?''
Sorry l echoed. Nothing in the world
could make me happier! Love her? OF
course | shallr'
1t was in that fairest time of the year which
Charlotte Bronte so prettily describes as
THE marriage-time OF May
With her Young lover june
tnat BERTHE came among u.s. We drove over
one evening, Guy and l, in the pony-carTiage
to the little rOadSlde-Station which was the
nearest to TredegaT, to meet our guests. l
remember wildly all the details of our hap
Ply drive. Guy, radiant with happiness like
schoolboy out for a holiday, drove along
reeklesSly, leaving the wagonette which was
to convey the servants and trunks far behind.
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