The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-05-12
GREAT-UNCLE'S DOUBT

4
ESA discover MS great age and TO feel III
INV weight OF his many years. The wonee
full health which he had always enjoyed r9i
down, he grew thin and he lost siatug.
father had secretly to give his tailor insa IA
TO make the old genileman's new dressing u
two inches shorter than the last one. for he,
forever treadng on its edges and stumbliS
The old man lost his interest, too. in one Ihi :,
after another OF the many that had never
hitherto ceased to engage his attention. Ill
favorite books lay open unregarded on his knees,
and his remark able gift of narraton-he was a
rare story-teller, graphic, rapid. ihriling-de-
serted him. And he slept more aud more; slept
late in the mornings, after his usual time for
rising. slept longer than ever in the afternoons,
and yet Tell asleep again immediately after din
ner. My uncle Owen, the philologist, quoted
Richard Role de HamEole,
An alderman to dede drawand
May noght wake, bot es ay sepand.
And my father talked about 1.-THE thirteenth ell
macteric." and all OF us, nephews ana neces.
great nephews and nieces, and gleatgrest neph-
ews and nieces, felt very sorry for what we coud
see was coming, for we were all deeply attached
to the dear old man.
say this by way of preface, in ordert sat those
going TO relate as the mere waking dreams of au
old, old man, fast sinking beneath tile spell of
last great sleep, may do so II they chose. My
own opnion-but that is no part oil my sto"y.
When the spring came the medical men recon-
mended change Of air-Ihe Berkshire pine cOCp-
try. So my Great-uncle went into Berkshire, and
1 with him. l was his fayorite greatnephew.
and do not mind confessing that was proud
OF it.
The change of air did the old man good Our
lodgings were comfortable aud the weather fine.
My uncle recovered some of his old spirits and
was able 10 take several " cOnstitutionais."
One afternoon as We returned from our walk
our landlord met us at the door, and, touching
his forehead, said to my uncle:
81 beg your pardon, sir, but there is an Old
lady here, who would much like to speak to you
II you have few minutes to spare, sir 1t Is my
grandmother"
into his wlfe's parlor. AS we entered, a gray,
toolhless, wifhered old dame rose from her place
by the fire and c0urtesied to us.
80 You don't remember me, SIR" she said TO my
uncle as soon as he had sat down. "But l re-
member you, sir ! was Miss Jessy's m9id; sir;
My uncle looked up quickly.
Ann?" he asked with surprise.
Yes, sir" answered the old dame, with a
smile OF pleasure at finding herself remembered
% reeollOet your coming 10 NOrthbroOk sir, ia
1914, In the Easter week. And when my grand
son told me that gentleman of the name Of Glib
sou was come TO stay with him, l thought at once
OF YOU sir. And then, when l saw you in church
last sunday sald, why, and that Is the very
concluded deferentiaily, you're grown in years.
sir"
"Wel" thought l, "slnce 1914, naturally"
But was listening with great curiosity, for all
OF us knew that my great-uncle William had a
secret, though what the nature OF that secret was
no one had any idea. Only my father had heard
from his father that some fifty or sixty years
since Uncle William would now and then, IN con
versation wi h his elder brother Dick, obliquely
allude TO certain JeSsy, respecting whom Uncc
DICK was always profoundly reticent Ny
greatuncle Dicks death took place in the TWEEN
ties-I have forgotten exactly when-and since
that Uncle William had never named Jessie: but
now II seemed probable that l might hear some
thing about this mysterious lady.
"And where are you now living, Ann?" asked
my great-uncle.
Tie old woman replied that she sin lived at
NorIhbrook. My uncle went on 10 ask about
her History. began 10 believe thai, after all,
he meant nothing to be SAID about :. Miss
Jessy." But presently he ndured:
"And the Old place at NDrthbrOOk, The Cot
Garden OH aldg it4
rookery do they all remain the same ?"
They built some new houses IN the garden OF
answered the old woman. "And after that they
pulled The Cottage down. But the gieb. aad
the rookery, they remain the same still"
full minute elapsed before my uncle spoxe
again.
"And Miss Gwynne," he asked. without any
apparent emotion, she marredP She is not
alive now, suppose? You aud l have lived to
be such old folks, Ann, that there Is scarcely
any one whom we knew left"
"Ahl No, sir" answered the old dame,
dreamy. But Miss Jessy, sir, died in 1919
You never heard Of il? '' = OK
1871" exclaimed my uncle. "But she w. 90
I'm 1917, sir; III June, three years and two
mouths after you came"
"Yes, yes; know it was about that time, II
answered my uncle with something ike sbaGe
OF impatlenee.
was impressed by the way in which the old
dame dated the marriage from The time OF my
''You never came again. stf," she ventured 10
remark now, finding that my uncle asked no nyre
questions.
No, my uncle admitted, he had not called
again.
Miss Jessy used to say, sir, that you would
she used to say to me. You'll see, Ann, that
some day Mr.. Gibson Will come again"
Tell Inc about her marriage" SAID my uncle,
changing the subject. ''She married MIR. Nor
gan?"
- Yes, sir. After all. she married Mr.. Morgan
Morgan. 1t was TO MIS-. Morgan's, her mothers,
that she went to dinner that day you came air.
Perhaps you remembers"
81 remember that she went to dine with some
friends ] had forgotten who they were" re-
piled my uncle. but tell me how all this hap
pened-Miss Gwynne's marriage and the cause
Complying with this request the old dame
commenced long but tolerably lucid history.
Indeed, thought 1t wonderfully lucid history
for an old woman to tell after the lap-- OF so
many years. But the Incidents haoT evidently
made strong impression upon heu( at the time
OF their occurrence. observed that my uncle
listened with Iapt attention to eyRry rurn Of her
narrative. i shall not attempt toy repeat the old
woman's words, but only to glvae their general
substance. -
What she gave us TO unde-sts was this
After my uncle LEFT Us o0tta;, at alter
Deen -the Easier week of 1915, fGwynn
was fully convinced that some day .ele woul
again come to call IN the same uneXpeetsed way
Especially at Christmas she thought she sn12Qnt
see him; and again after Easter returned. 30
convinced was she that sometimes, after break
fast In the spring mornings and late in the
autumn afternoons, she would go across the
ing somehow persuaded herself that on this or
that day he would certainly come. And some
times she would weep. on returning home with
out having seen him. AT other times she would
sit for hours at a window at the back of "Ihe
Cottage )" watching the path by which he should
arrive. All this the old woman RELAXED little
retlcently and hesltatingly, but what she meant
was clear. Plainly, at some tne or another. my
greatnnee William lad fallen inJ0ye WltfiiAsiiSSs
GwyBne and bis regard had been. at least III a
degree, returned. Not having seen The young
LADY Tor three or four months, he lad paid her
this visit at NOrthbrook on his way home from
Oxford al Easter In 1914; aud alter that visit,
whatever my unee's feelings may have been
Miss Gwynues sentiment was That she would
very much ike him 10 come TO see her again.
And so, the wish fatherlng the thought, she be-
ieved that he would come.
But TO resume the old crone's story. The days
and the months passed aud my great-uncle came
not. Meantime at NorIbbrook lived Mr.. Nor
gan Morgan, rival. apparently, OF my uncles,
who, at any rate, was always on the spot. And
then, IT seems, in the course of time Jessie
GwynDe grew tired of waiting for my uncle, Who
never came back. Anyhow MIR. Morgan Nor
gan's suit, ever warmly pressed, began to obtain
hearing, and al last one day Ann learned from
her young mistress that she had promised Mr..
Morgan that she would marry him. Miss
Gwynne's parents however, would not hear OF
the match, aud the young lady was forbidden to
meet her lover. But one morning when Anu
went TO awaken her, Miss Gwynue was nowhere
10 be found and on the next day came letter
announcing that she and Mr.. Morgan Morgan
were married.
The young people went to London to live, and
for year two all went well-too well. MIR.
Morgan made money, and the old people at 'rhe
Cottage forgaye their daughter and she had a
grand house. aud there were balls and dinners
and parties and gayeties every day. Then trouo-
les began-lhe troubles the Old folks had always
foIetold. Mr.. Morgan was In debt. Nj. Morgan
gambled. MIR. Morgan took to hard drinking
MIR. Morgan grew tired OF his young vile; neg
lected ner; was unkiDd to her; wronged her;
beat her cruelty. Then followed some episode
over which a veil was thrown. The truth about
it was never known. But Mr.. MoTgae wrote TO
the old people al The Cottage" to inform them
that his vile had left his house. After that fol-
lowed Two terrible months-a blank. Mr.. Nor
gan was In prison, aud Mrs. Morgan was--only
the Lord knew where. Her parents sought for
her far aud near, but all In vain.
But at last. one evening. after THE Cottage
had been locked up for the night and every one
in it had gene 10 bed as Ann was DOING of TO
sleep. she heard tapping. tapping
against the shutters OF the kitchen window JUST
beneath her room. Al irstshe was frightened,
but after awhile she struck light and went
downstairs, and softly opened the front door aad
called.
outside was Mrs Morgan.