Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1890-03-13
his vile: Rhoda. las ana expert and willing

q RIM ttns'cer.
his wife; Rhoda, as an expert and willing
needleWOman, being sure t a welcome,
for her own sake. in family which in
cluded a number of young children. Miss
Henley had only to order her carriage, and
to be within reach of the farm. A week
seldom passed without meeting between
the mistress and the maid.
In the mean time, Mountjoy (absent in
Franco did not forget to write to Iris.
His letters offered little hope of a speedy
return. The doctors had not concealed
from him that his fathers illness would
end fatally; but there were reserves of
vital power still left, which might prolong
the struggle. Under these melancholy
circumstances, he begged that Iris would
write to him. The oftener she could tell
him of the little events of her life at home
the more kindly she would brighten the
DAYS of dreary life.
Eager to show, even in a trifling matter,
how gratefully she appreciated Mountjoy's
past kindness, Iris related the simple story
of her life at home, in weekly letters adj
dressed to her good friend. After telling
Hugh (amOng other things) of Rhoda's es-
adjustment at the farm, she had some I'M
expected results to relate, which had fol-
lowed the attempt to provide herself with
new maid.
" engaged-each recommended by the
lady whom she had last served, with that
utter disregard of moral obligation which
appears to be shameleSsly on the increase
in the England of our day. The first of
| the two maids, described as rather eXclt-
able" revealed infirmities of temper which
| suggested a lunatic asylum as the only fit
place for her. The second young woman,
detected in stealing eGu-de-cologne, and
using it (mixed with water) as an intoxi-
eating drink. claimed merciful conStruc-
ton of her misconduct on the ground that
she Lad been misled by the example of her
last mistress.
AT the third attempt to provide herself
with a servant IRIS was able to report the
discovery of a responsible person who
told the truth-an unmarried lady of mid
die age.
| In this case, the young woman was de-
| scribed as a servant thoroughly trained in
| the performance of her duties, honest,
! sober, industrious, of an even temper, and
unprovided with "a follower" in the
| shape of a sweetheart. Even her name
! sounded favorably in the ear of stranger
| it was Fanny Mere. Iris asked how a
| servant, apparently possessed of a fault
| less character, came to be in want of o
situation. At this question the lady sigh
ed, and acknowledged that she had ''made
a dreadful diScovery'' relating to the past
| life of her maid. 1t proved to be the old,
the miserably old, story of broken prom
| Use of marriage, and of the penalty paid as
usual by the unhappy woman. Il will say
nothing of my own feelings" the maiden
lady explained. SIN justice to the other
female servants, it was impossible for me
to keep such person in my house: and,
in justice to you, L must most willingly
stand in the way of Fanny Mere's pros
poets by mentioning my reason for parting
with her."
eff could see the young woman and
speak to her," Iris said, 81 should like to
decide the question of engaging her for
myself"
The lady knew the address of her dis
| charged servant, and, with some appear
ance of wonder, communicated it. Miss
Henley wrote at once, telling Fanny Mere
| to come to her on the following day.
When she woke on the next morning,
| later than usual an event occurred which
| Iris had been impatiently expecting for
some time past. She found letter wait
| ing on her bedside table, side by side with
| her cup Of tea. Lord Harry had written
! to her at last.
! Whether he used his pen or his tongue,
| the Irish lords conduct was always more
| or less in need of an apology. Here were
| the guilty ones new excuses, expressed in
| his customary medley of frank confession
and howery language:
| Il Am fearing, my angel, that l have offend
ed you. You have too surely said to YOURSELF:
| This miserable Harry might have made me
| happy by writing two lines-and what does he
| do? He sends message in words which tell
| me nothing.
| My sweet girl the reason why is that l WAS
| I'm two minds when your man stopped me on
| my way to the ship.
Whether it was best for you'll was not
| thinking of myself-to confess the plain trulh
| or t. take refuge in affectionate eQuivocation
was more than l could decide at the time.
When minutes are enough for your intei-
gence, my stupidity wants days. Well! / saw
| it at last. a man owes the truth to a true wo-
man; and you are q true woman. There you
! find Il process of reasOning-I have been five
! days getting hold of ii.
But tell me one thing first. Brutus killed
! man; Charlotte COrday killed man. One of
] 4
| other mean tyraut. Nobody blameS those
! two his; orieal assassins Why then blame me
! for wIsh hing TO make third? Is mere moi
| ern murderer beneath my vengeance. by m
! pariSuH with two classical tyrauts who old
| their uuruers by deputy? The man who kill
ed Arthur MounIjoy is next to Cain alone the
| most atrlciouS homiciue tndt ever trod the
| miry ways of this earth. There is my replyl
So now my mind is easy. Darling, let me
| make your mind easy next.
| hen l left you at the window of Vimpany's
house. 1 was off to the other railroad TO find
| the murderer in his hiiing-Dlsce by the sea-
| side. He had left it; but got a trace, and
| went back TO LOndon-to the decks. Some
| vilan in 1reani who knows my purpose, must
nave turned traitor. Anyhow. the wretch has
! escaped me.
Yes; 1 searched the ship in every corner.
/ He was not on board. Has he gone on before
me, by an earlier vessel? Or has he directed
snaIi ma out IN time. MS Gay OF RECKONING
| will come, and he. too, shall know violent
| death! Amen. So be it. Amen.
Have done now? Bear with me, gentle
| 1ris-there is a word more TO come.
| You viii wonder why l went on by the
steam.hip-all the way to South Afrlca-when
| i had failed to find the man wanted on board.
| What was my motive? You, you alone. are
| always my motive. Lucky men have found
gold, lucky men have found diamonds. Why
| should not be one of them? My sweet, let
| rs suppose two possible things; my own elias
| tic convictions would call them two likely
| things, but never mind that. Say, I come
| back reformed character; there is your only
objection to me at once removed! And take
| 1t for granted that / return with a fortune of
| my own finding. IL that case what becomes
| OF Mr.. Henley's objection to me; 1t melts las
Shakespeare says somewhere) into thin air.
| Now, do you take my advice for once. Show
| this part of my letter to your excellent faith
J ~r with NV love. I answer beforehand for