Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1889-10-31
carry your message to your cousin. /"

carry your message To your cousin
''Do you believe in that theoryf' he asked,
an odd puzzled look ON his face
"Certanly do,'' l answered, land you
will. too, by and by"
Il am almost converted TO your doctrine
now he laughed
Then, after wishing me 'bon voyage''
land reterating his DIES ire that Miriam
should get the letter from my hands only,
he lifted his hat and babe me goodbye again
land walked away toward what used to be
tie deer park, but now rather neglected
close.
One morning not long after this decidedly
romantic interview in the old, deserted
Heattrrleigh grounds found myself ready
to leave the Hail
Peggy, who had either grown tired of
coaxing me to prelong my visit or presumed
further pressing was useless, which, indeed,
would have been, brought Miriam's portrait
from the gallery, and, wrapping it care
fully, with many carcss and grooming
word Of endearment, gave itinto my care.
! considered this quite feat-to get pos
session of d portrait from this old Hall, and
showered my unfeigned thanks on Peggys
devoted head in consequence.
II will do all in my power to get her TO
return, if only for a years visit,' prom
taking, and intend TO keep my promise good.
Not for worlds would | prove false TO those
old Irish dwellers at Heatherleigh by not
trying to persuade Miriam to come back,
ii for nothing else than to see them.
Harkl what Ia that! Oh, ii is the ting,
ting a-ling OF the bell for luncheon, and
Gladys expects my cousinly presence in the
pleasant little breakfasJ-room shortly.
Cousin Gladys luncheons are something
famous for suburban cottage, with their
delicious cake and fruit arrangement, to
gether with their smattering of cold meats,
and thanked with spiced wines.
She is in high glce this week, for we are
to take little run up into the dear old
| Cotswold hills, Gladys and /, and she is
clipper as bird in consequence.
l shall enjoy the trip, 10 be sure, but the
secret of Allan's letter and the pleasant
| knowledge of having met him eclipse all
the happy anticipation might feel in q run
among the Cotswold hills. l find myself
lost IN speculation as 10 what Miriam will
do and say when L give Allan's letter into
! her hands and tell her met him accident
ally-not providentially-a Heatherleigh.
With such weighty secrets in my posses
sion from both sides of the water, no won
der am beginning to feel myself q person
4 OF uncommon Importance. And the letter
| and portrait in my keeping, either of which
| is worth q ransom to the owner, presume,
make me feel more like an ambassador than
| simply guest. 1t seems TO me that my com.
| ing TO see Gladys has lost It's :den!ity-be-
! come, as it were, secondary object or ex
cuse for the grander possibilities.
All! here comes Gladys. l expected az
| much have kept her waiting too long for
| her busy, busting nature, and she has como
| to see Il nave gone to sleep il this cozy
! nook or turned a deaf ear to her luncheon
| neli
+ r.r !t,ei iiads rue making ready fer
| atc -. 1eedee
CHAPTER XXH
| We have been having an outing, Gl.dys
and l. We have taken that little run
Iup the Thames for which we were booked
some time.
| Gladys, having some friends in London,
and wishing to see them also, we spent q
F, couple Of days there. From there we start
ed for the delightful country trip. 1t would
have been more to my liking TO have gone
in midsummer, but the summer was past,
the opportunity had gone by, apd the upper
Thames had been left until now.
| No matter; we found ourselves at the
! Great Western Paddington station one fine
morning, with lunch-hamper in hand.
Gladys remembers the lunch item, if nothing
| else, en- route for Taplow.
| Away we roll out Of the big city and
| across the quiet peacefulness of beauti-
! full stretch of country. The fields, however,
were unfortunately rather brown and bare,
| it being too late in the season for field dais-
| les or bright and blooming hedge rows. 1t
seemed to me kind of solemn, quiet loneh
ness pervaded the landscape, and l ceased
| IN lOoly from nv cOfnrarttnput and chut my
| eyes to the outside gimpses Of the real
world, busying myself in delving into the
impossible and-perhaps possible, ideal
world of my own
An hours ride brought us to our destina-
| ton by rail.
From Maidenhead we were 10 80 by boat
| to Marowe. There "A friend meets us, and
we go winding away across the country
| again to Oxford renowned old Oxford
and from there to a little nook in the hills
| miles further on; Gladys old home, you
| know
| / do not know that have time to tell you
| of all the beautiful landscapes, wooded
| parks, soft, hazy meadow stretches, still
| green and inviting. and the thousand other
| lovely visions which will be green in mem
| DRY for many a long day. But wish to say
| that our ride on the Thames from Maiden
| head to Marlowe was one round of delight
| full surprises and enjoyable diversion. There
are many picturesque scenes on the banks
| of this old much-sung, much painted river.
| With its numerous locks, weirs, lovely old
| mills and hospitable inns, with it's pictur-
| esque scenery of wooded heights and hand
| some and y-wreathed, ivv-crowned
| churches and country seats, ''old Father
| Thames" is remembered as a very genial
| friend.
No wonder the artist raves; no wonder
| the poet strikes his sweetest, grandest num-
bers along his banks. No wonder, say, no
wonderl
| Oxford being on the flow of the Thames
also, regretted very much that we had
not had time to boat it further; but neces-
/ sity knows no compromise with inclination,
| and Gladys must 90 by another route.
| Days and days it would have taken us,
| Gladys said, to have gone up the river to
| Oxford, and of course it would, when we
come to take into consideration the classic
wiudings of the stream.
Well, am sure | missed great deal OF
beauty and loveliness, but it can not be
| helped now, nor could il have been.
Gladys old home nestles in a bright little
nook among the hills and a beautiful little
country residence it is, situated on the
banks Of the Thames, but not tho great
| river we left behind US at Marlowe, or Ok
ford, for instance.
No; quiet silvery, unpretentious flow
just below the garden, where we stood and
| watched birds of migration pass over our
| heads in the gray Of the evening light,
while the brisk breeze went by and sighed
itself to death among the hills.
The house itself is also ivy wreathed-
every thing is ivy-wreathed, or ivy
| crowned, it seems to me, in merrie old
| England as well as the more pretentious
neighboring residences; alow-eaved, many
| gabled affair, with solid masonry and heavy
wooden shutters. A little, wooded park
and an antiquatedlookug summer house at
I4STe, III;
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