Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1889-01-11

her house, and there lay upon nor the deep
shadow Of evil that was to come Every
Time she saw hor father lustliuv about with
his business letters and paiciu snts every
time the universal George arrived wi:l an
air # melancholy satisfaction and long list
OF farming stock and implements he had
bought at soilc neighboriug Michao.uas sale.
thoshadoW Gccro"ei, and She heard the rlank-
IN. a Lcr claims. Therefore shc Was tho
mere thankful for her respite.
Harold Qumitch was happy, too, though in
a somewhat re- 1lcas and peculiar way My-.
Jonson, the I'D lady who attended TO his
wants at MoloshIll, with the help Of gar
deucr and simple village mad, Ter niece,
who smashed all the crcckcry, aad nearly
drove the colonel mad L. bou,'nG the doors,
shifting his papers, and even dustiNS
lis trays Of Roman coins, actually con-
Gicd TO some friends in the Village
that she thought the poor dear gentleman
WIS going mad. When questioned on what
she based this belief, she replied that he
wouid walk up and down the oak paucied
dining room by the hour together that then,
when he got tired of that exercise, Whereby,
said MIR. Jobson, he had already worn
groove in the new Turkey carpet, ho would
tukc out "roEcy' doggy looking bit OF a
i'lNN'i'' anu 'l ppm a. 'ilt1ll ttA Htt
ii through his fingers shaking his head and
muttcring all the while. Then-fuithor and
conclusive proof of Il yielding irtcllgct--he
would get Il half sheet Of paper with soro
writing ON it. and put it on the nlantelpiece
aud stare at that. Next he would turn it up
s!o down and stare at it 50, then sideways,
then al ways, then he would hold it before
looking glass, and stare at the looking glass,
and so on. When asked how shc knew all
this sho confessed that Jane had seen it
through the key hole. not Onc' bat often.
OF course, as the practccd and discerning
reader will clearly understand, this meant
only that when walking and wearing out the
carpet the colonel was thinking of Ida; when
contemplating the painting sho had given
him, he was admiring her work and trying
to reconcile his admiration with his own con
science and his somewhat peculiar views OF
art. and that when glazing at the paper he
was vainy enG5avOring to make head or tail
Of the message written to his son oil the night
before his execution by Sir James de Ia Molle
in the reign of Charles l. and confidently be.
levcd by Ida to contain a key to the where
GbOuts Of the treasure lie was supposed TO
have secreted.
OF course the tale of this worthy soul, Ms.
Jobson, did not lose in the telling, and when
it reached Idas ears, which ii did at last
through tho medium Of Gcorce-for in addi-
ton to his numbcrless other functions, George
was the sole authorized Turycyor of village
and country neHs-it read that Col. Quaritch
had gone raying mad.
Ten minutes aft,sWard this raving lunatc
arrived at the castle in his dress clothes and
his right mind, vhereupon Ida promptly re.
reatei her thrilling history, somewhat to tho
i. l
Jane.
No one as somebody once said, with equal
truth and Trofundity, knows what minute
may bring forth; much less, therefore, does
anybody know what an evening of say two
hundred and forty minutes may produce.
For instance, Harold Quaritch-though by
this time he had gone so far as to freely nd-
init to himself that he was utterly and hope
lessly in love with Ida, in love with her with
that settled and determined passion which
sometimes strikes a man or woman in middle
agc-certIinly did not know that before the
evening was out he would have declared his
devotion with results that shall be made clear
in their decent order. When he put on his
dress clothes to come up TO dinner he had no
moro intention of proposing TO Ida than he
had Of not taking them of when he went to
bed. His love was deep enough and steady
enough, but perhaps it did not possess that
wild impetuosity which carries people so far
in their youth, sometimes indeed, great
deal further than their reason approves. 1t
was essentially n middle aged devotion, and
bore tho same resemblance to tho picturesque
passion Of llve-and twenty that a snow fed
torrent does TO a navigablo river, The one
PUSHES and roal's and sweeps away the bridges
and deyastates happy homes, while the other