The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1889-08-21
WHOLE No. 1895.

flower garden made where was sunny
lawn.
"You object to my buying so many
greenhouse flowers. Uncle Ambrose.
Let Martin lay out beds. and 1 will
have flowers of my own"
.'It would take landscape gardener
! to make such garden rs you describe,
Lea. Martin could not do it, and it
would also be very expensive"
"YOu care so very much for money,
Uncle Ambrose. What is it good for
if not to useP do not want you to
use your money-use mine! Nay father
left me some did he not?And the house
is as much mine as yours"
Uncle Ambrose spoke very gently,
though he was pale.
The house will be all yours some
day. Lea"
Then let me have little comfort of
it. l do not care for the library and
the relics and the coat-of-arms of the
Rexfords as you do. Let me have
flowers and sunshine and a gay time.
That is what / want"
Innocent tastes enough surely my
child.''
But Uncle Ambrose spoke sadly.
He had grown old and weak in few
days. Even Lea noticed that.
81 do not mean to be exacting and
troublesome, Uncle Ambrose" she
said. penitently, as she met his grave
blue eyes. but l am young, and l
| want to enjoy my life"
Yes, my dear"
Then he spoke more resolutelv:
II cannot provide the garden for
you, Lea, nor the new saddle horse YOU
spoke of yesterday. Bv and bye l will
try and explain why; but am III now,
and it is Il difficult task to make YOU
understand this matter. II will cost
me great deal of pain to talk about it
it. For the present be content with
my donial, and try to be contented
with the blessings you have"
He rose slowly and walked away,
leaving the girl flushed and rebellious.
'tNor the horse, either" she mur-
INJURED. "Fhat is too much. l will not
bear ito be denied everything that
other girls have! l cannot invite the
girls here-nOt now, he saysI | can
not ride; / cannot have SD much as a
nosegay. | hate such parsimony and
dull living! 1t is intolerable; it eats
into mel | will not bear il! [ will
AuA 10 Ssludud anu
spend month with the McArthurs.
Uncle Ambrose will be shut up all day
with his lawyers, as he was yesterday
He will not miss me until l write and
tell him that l have found an oppor-
tunity of enjoying myself. He will
not grudge me that if it costs him moth
ing"
The girl was undisciplined, unwise,
headstrong; but if she had dreamed of
what was in her uncle's heart she
would have begged his pardon with
tears.
He was harassed by his late misfor-
tunes. He was ill. He felt old and
weak. And when Lea had been gone
three days. and Harold Feldon, not
knowing of her absence, came unex-
pectediy he welcomed the strong, alert,
swect-tempered young man with al
most childish delight.
Stay with me. Will you not be
contented for awhlle?" he said s'Of
course you will miss Lea. She went
awcy so unexpectedly-only told my
housekeeper, Mrs. Coffee, that she was
going to the McArthurs at Montreal.
She is very independent, Lea is. More
SO than l wish; but she is very beauti-
full and charming. / do not wonder
that she charms young fellow like
you-so fond of beauty. She has a
wonderful face, and is very like her
father. my brother Raleigh -
His knowledge of Lea and what he
gathered pressed the truth home to
Harold's mind. Without knowing it,
Lea was ungrateful. selfish, inconsider-
ate. She believed herself wronged,
and had gone away leaving her uncle
ill and troubled on her account. He
blamed her. Yet he loved her, aud
waited anxiously for response to his
letter, which he mailed to Montreal
Immediately.
Martin came into the Hall one day
with the mail.
If you are going up to the masters
room would you kindly take up the
masters letters, sirp" he said.
For Mr.. Rexford was confined to his
room. A chronic weakness which had
troubled him for years was increasing.
1t struck Harold as he entered the
room that the old man was very ill.
Il will save him all the sorrow
can" he said, mentally, as he watched
the thin hands, which trembled as
they took the letters.
..Nothing from Lea" said Mr.. Rex
ford. Il should think she would write
to me-"
He soon stretched himself on the
bed, and lay all day with his face to
the wall, without speaking.
The doc tor came the next day, piled
| his questions, and went away gravely.
When he came and departed again he
nodded slightly to Harold, who fol
lowed HIM downstairs.
HE will not be any better, and his
situation is precarious. Has he settled
his affairsP You had best tell him and
talk with him.
1t was hard, unwelcome task. Bu
Harold Feldon did it tenderly, and
Ambrose Rexford was helped by the
strong composed young spirit.
! God bless you, my boy, and give
YOU friend in your last days! Is th'
door closed? Come and sit by me-"
Two days later there was light ste!
in the hall, the rustic of girls dres
J on the oaken stair.
'.Harold!" she cried. catching sigh
of him. II have answered you lette
in person. Was l not good. when
was having such lovely timer Why
W0aL IS The Lldlt6T! 4Ou dlO oO PniS
50 graveP Harold, has anything hap
pened?"
Your uncle is-very ILL.,"
He was dying!
He took the girls trembling hand
smiled Oh her and was gone.
She rushed out of the room. Sh
, was wild with uncomfortable grief.
'Dead! Oh. how terrible! He wa
3 so good, and did not know it! He
dead forever-and will never knO'
how sorry am-how wretched l am
, Oh, have been wicked-wicked!'
She continued pallid and despairin
until after the funeral.
: She was so changed as to be hardl
known. Her black dress. her ghastl
face, her expression of suffering altere
4 her utterly from the vivid, ga
creature of few weeks previous.
The will was read. She heiress
t the mansion and grounds. There VIZ
nothing more-not a cent
"Nothing," she said to Harold, rou
ing herself, as he explained.
thought"