The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1889-07-12

I
has been as much as l could do to prevent an
open quarrel between him and Harry. Hav-
ing been told of the engagement, having seen
for himself how truly Eunice and Harry love
each other, his conduct has been base-base
and ungentlemanly. Eunice's bearing toward
him should surely have convinced hinsthat
he has no hope"
'To perscverc us he has persevercd, "said my
vile, with somewhat more emphasis than it
was her habit to impart into her speech,
"seems to me proof that he places reliance
upon some promise which Mr. Wilmot has
made to him; otherwise he would hardly
have prolonged his visit. 1t is ungracious
to say so, but he could not fail to see how
unhappy he has made us and he would have
bidden us farewell if there was not some-
thing behind of which we are ignorant, and
for which we were not prepared. Richard, 1
Lave infected you with my apprehensions
because it will be best for you, and for all Of
us, to be on our guard when Mr.. Wilmot ar
rives. Alttle reflection beforehand often a.
averts calamity. Hasty words cannot be re-
called, and they lead to anger and to actions
which we afterwards deplore."
81 will reflect well, my dear. Tell me
pl nly what you fear from Mr.. Wilmot,"
Il fear he will advocate the cause of Mr..
Mortlock."
"As regards Eunicep" I exclaimed, in
amaZement.
Yes, Richard, replied my wife, sadly, ''as
regards our dear child"
But before he arrives" I said che will
have read my letter announcing her engage
ment with Harry. Surely, in the face of that
-" paused, seeing, from the expression
on my wife's face, that was making no i'm
pression upon her.
II am so much impressed" she said, "by
a certain phase in your uncle's character
which has been dwelt upon by Mr.. Mortlock
i mean in regard to his being seif-willed
and obstinate when once he has made up his
mind-that cannot Danish my fears. 1t is
painful subject, Richard; do not let us dwell
upon it any longer. Hope is leftIto us, and we
will cling to it."
This conversation made me moody and
unhappy; there were so many contingencies
depending upon my uncle's whim. Not alone
Eunice's happiness and her future, but the
whole course of the life before me and mine
hung upon his word. Had 1 foreseen that
the time might come when l should be
thrown upon my own resources, might, out
OF the handsome income had received from
Mr.. Wilmot, have put II little by every year,
and SO, to some extent, have provided for ad-
versity. But such thought never crossed
my mind and now that it was introduced its
effect upon me was terrible. Iregonized how
absolutely helpless l was to provide for those
who had claim upon nee for support. /
knew no trade or profession, and could think
of no means by which could earn our daily
bread. Thoughtlessly had spent regularly
every shilling of my income, and was eveh in
debt-not to any great extent, it is true, for
three or four hundred pounds would have
paid all owed, but the position was suf1i-
GENTLY serious to cause nee alarm. Mr.. Mort
lock presented himself to myimagi aation as an
evil genius who had intruded hims elfupon US
to work our ruin and when, in the course OF
tho day. he came towards me. smiling and
easy-mannered. with pleasant words drop
ping from his tongue, I thought of Lucifer
with his fair outside and his maglignant
heart.
Minor incidents which occurred during this
day passed lightly off, although on other
occasions I should have deemed them OF
Importance. and have estimated them Alright.
had lately perceived signs of failing health
in Samuel Fleetwood. and had advised him
to consult n doctor He simply smiled, and
said that it would be useless, as no doctors
could do him good but as his bad symptoms
-,l,, ;o;o
and examine Fleetwood. The physician'sre re-
port was melancholy enough. He repre-
sented our faithful servants case to be hope
less. saying he had heart disease. and could
not live through the year.
"Did YOU inform him of it2" inquired.
at was scarcely necessary" replied the
physician. "he has been for some time
aware of his state, and he looks forward to
the end almost with cheerfulness."
1t will be understood how deep would
have been the impression produced upon me
by this sad news had not been SO terribly
harrassed by my own special anxieties. 1 en-
tertained the sincerest regard for Fleetwood;
know him to be loyal and true stanch and
devoted l know that he was ready to make
any sacrifice for me and mine; but will p1t
no false gloss upon my feelings. So thor
oughly engrossed was l by my own selfish
fears that felt mere commonplace pity for
the honest, devoted fellow, instead OF the full
hearted sympathy which 1 should, under
happier circumstances, have extended
towards him.
Before sundown Mdlle. Rosalie also played
her part.
In anticipation of my uncle's visit land de-
string that he should see Boscombe Lodge at
Its best, had given instructions to any gar
dener, which he said he could not caEry out
alone. empowered him to hire Il man to
assist him, and he told me he had done so.
l was satisfied to leave the matter to him; he
had bceh in my service many years, and had
served me well. All that knew of the man
he had engaged was his name-Redwing
When the gardener cameto me on Saturday
for wages, asked how Redwing suited him
"Oh, pretty well u sir" was the reply; che
isn't all he made himself out to be. but shall
manage"
And my gardener being content, so was 1.
At the beginning tof the week I myself saw
Rodwing for the fist time. He did not ap-
pear to be over eXerting himself; and this
and the fact that he was good-looking fell
low, comprised my observation of him.
return now to the incident in which
Mdlle. Rosalie1played part on the evening
OF the day on which I received my uncles
second letter.
With my thoughts fixed uponth approach
ing crisis in my fateaI wandered from my