St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1890-05-21
A COACHMAN'S CONQUEST.
How a Suitor Won the Heart of
an HeireSs.


ably charming. She was aristocratlc in
her manners, but no one blamed her for
that,as she was rich, refined, Intelligent.
and came from good family. While
she was aristocratic, she was, however.
exceedingly affable, and when she
granted condescension she did it so
prettily that nobody regarded it as one.
She dressed neatly. hated deceit. was
matter-of-fact in her friendships, was
neither impulsive nor demonstrative,
and knew how to enjoy life. She was
twenty-five years old and proportion
ately sensible in her views and practical
in her purposes.
She owned:a magnificent place on the
Hudson, or, to be more precise, held
half interest in 1t. The other half be-
longed to her brother Ralph, who spent
most of his time abroad. The interior
was as beautiful as the exterior. She
kept servants. did as she pleased, and
was responsible to a large extent to no.
body but herself.
She was fond of riding, boating and
outdoor sports, which brought color to
her cheeks and twill to her muscles, but
did not make her seem manniSh.
One bright June morning, while seat
ed upon the veranda, young man came
leisurely up the steps. He was tall,
graceful, athletic, fine-looking. He took
off his hat, his handsome brown eyes
resting upon her.
BE seated" she said, with a wave of
her hand, Whereupon he complied with
half-quizzical occurrences.
81 CHI q odd
ed, at which he merely lifted his eyes in
puzzled way. ''But did not expect
to see you so we'll dressed" she con-
tinued. with characteristic frankness.
THAT shouldn't MATTER" he replied.
speaking for the first time, his voice
low, yet distinct and musical.
"Well, | don't know that it does"
was her comment. "You know all
| about horses, of course?" Il asz
"Oh, yes" he replied, lifting his hand
to his mouth, to hide queer smile that
stirred it.
"Your recommendations were salts
factory she said. II think you will
do"
Just then an old servant approached.
philip, this is Andrew Jacobs, my
new coachman," she quickly said.
''Show him to his room in the carriage
ilOuSc dilO cApldiu W liluI HIS
Eyes, Miss Lucille" replied the old
man, with bow.
"The fellow is entirely too gentle
manly" was her mental comment, as
she gazed after her new domestic.
Before two weeks had passed she
fnund the man more frequently in her
thoughts than she would have cared to
confess. 1t arose from cOmpaniOnShip
and his thoughtful, obedient. deferen-
tial ways. She felt it was that. apart
from his handsome face and figure. In
a dozen of instances she was made
aware of the fact that he was eman of
broad culture, who had travelled much
and read more.
She took sick in the early part of Sep
TENDER. The complaint was malarial
fever; it was not a serious attack, yet
grave enough to confne her to the
house. The doctor would not permit
her to read, and that made her confine
ment all the more irkSOme.
Andrew Jacobs had spare time on his
hands, and no doubt was an excellent
reader. Why not press him into service?
The idea was at once carried out. He
read aloud to her for several hours
every day. His voice was sweetIy
modulated, and he understood every
thing which he read. He occasionally
made comments, and she was as much
pleased with them as with what he read.
His presence afforded her SO much graf
lficatiOn that she sometimes almost for
got the wide social distinction between
them.
In Analysing her feelings she discov-
cred, with something akin to dismay,
that she had grown very fond of him.
There were no visitors at the house
her servants were discreet SO the
intimacy was not made matter of COM
ment. She did not dismiss him, she
simply became more guarded.
MIR. Jacobs" she said to him one
day, ''you must have led an eventful
life"
II don't KNOW" he replied, a little
absently. cit has always seemed rather
commonplace to me-"
'But-you have suffered S0me?"
"Oh, no, Miss Cavanagh," he replied,
his soft brown eyes upon her face.
"What led you to think of Jhat?"
She grew embarrassed for moment,
which was an unusual thing with her.
She did not like to pry into his past life,
and yet she had become quite curious
concerning it.
Il suspected that you had met with
With-with viciSSitudeS." she heSitat-
ingly said. "You are certainly serving
beneath your capacities"
eff so, am contented," he quietly
replied, although he cOlored deeply.
mo vocation is mean unless we choose
to make it So"
YES" she thoughtfully assented,
aud then relapsed into silence.
HE might have told me something
about himself" she thought in vexa-
ton. "Oh, if his name only wasn't
Jacobs! 1t could not be more plebei-
an"
Her health began to return to her,
and she looked forward with impatient
anticipation to the drives along the
country roads in the October tWilightS.
| But she was to be- disappointed, at least
| so far as the cOmpanionShip of Andrew
| Jacobs was concerned, for he an
nounced to her intention to depart.
She was in the conservatory at the
time, and he had just pushed open one
of the glass doors.
"You are going to leave me?" she re :
peated, faint pallor in her face, dull
| pain in her heart.
Eyes, Miss Cavanagh."
because do not pay you enough?"
"Oh, bless you, no." he replied.
You are offered something better, no
| doubt?'
''No. Miss Cavanagh. have nothing
in prospect. simply wish to CO."
She felt hurt: the dull pain in her
heart increased; a climbing rose almost
touched her cheek, but it impaired none
| of its color to it.
Sin that case nothing would induce
you to remain" she said, regaining her
! composure. 81 am afraid that l can
never supply your place. 1 supposed
| that you were entirely satisfied. /"
ION the contrary, have been very
dissatisfied" he interrupted, with SO
| much vehemence that she looked di-
| rectly al him, struck, as never before,
by his handsome face and grand height.
81 am sorry" she said.
He noticed the grave infection.
"Not dissatisfied with you, Miss Cava-
nagh." he quickly said. mo, not with
you-nor my worK-nor my ound-
ings, but with myself"
| ho