Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-05-31

: deliberation, nor those always to which
!: the world has attached the most shameful
names, but those acts, followed by thu
cruelest results, which spring from tn,
weakness of our characters, acts of which
we are guilty without suspicion that W,
are doing wrong, and whose miserable con
sequences we only understand when rem
edy has become long since impossible
Again my uncle was little while silen
before he continued:
"The evening that l Came home, Bob
after our stay in Berkshire-that evening
that you left me by the dining-room fire
l had vision. You will think that l an
very old, and l begin to dote. Perhaps
do. But what | tell you is true
"When you were all gone that evening
sat by the fire thinking of things that hap
pened many years ago and of what Ann
told US, and of our visit to Northbrook
and then, presently looking up, | found
that some one had come to sit with me
The impression my visitor made upon nv
senses was vivid and distinct. saw him
clearly and could hear him move, and !
felt the difference when he stood between
me and the fire. But | had clear intu.
ition that his presence was unreal; that
what saw was but phantom creation OF
my own senses. So completely was | in
possession of my judgment that l said to
myself: i must be in worse health than |
supposed, to be subject to illusions such as
this But Just as one says to ones self in
dream, This must be dream and vet
| one continues to dream on so my illusion
continued.
II felt no surprise. The presence that
was with me seemed to me natural-as
natural as if your father had come in or
you, only | wondered who my visitor was.
He sat a little before me, nearer the fire. so
that only saw the back of his head and a
part of his cheek. At one time thought
1t was your grandfather, for the figure
was not unlike his, and the clothes were
such as he used to wear. At another
time | thought it was Dick; but the hair
was darker than his. But my visitor
spoke.
"'Shall we go back, William?' he said,
| back to 1914, and go down again to
Northbrook and see Jessy Gwynne?'
"His voice was familiar to me. very
familiar. 1t was like Dicks voice. but it
was not Dicks. Nor was it your grand
fathers, nor the voice of any one that l
could remember.
However, while trying to identify it. 1
had given some sort of assent to his propo.
sition.
"The scene around me faded-the fire
and the walls and the pictures, and, sim
ultaneously, a change passed within my
self. 1t was spring, and | was walking
with my companion in a country lane Ny
| step was easy and elastic, and | wore a
dark plum -colored coat. 1t was new one
that | had recently had made at Oxford,
and was in my Goth year, Below us, on
the slope of hill, lay a little country
town, with its church tower peeping above
some trees. 1t was Northbrook We
reached stile, and my companion said ::
This is no doubt the stile.' So we crossed
over the stile and took a path across the
fields. Shall we find Miss Gwynne at
home?' l asked He did not know any
more than [. Presently we came to a spot
where we could just see wicket gate-you
remember it.
There is some one coming said nv
companion. "A girl! Lookp
Why l answered, yes! Moves 1t
is Miss Gwynne herselfp And my heart
leaped with great leap of joy.
eve met her Just where the path
reached the trees, and she and | shook
hands, like lovers delighted to meet unex-
pectedly. For a few minutes we stood
talking where we had met. The sun
shown on the grass, and on the young
| green leaves, and rocks cawed around
/ their nests in the tall trees, and to me the
whole world seemed to be flooded with
happiness. But / soon learned with dis
appointment that Miss Gwynne was going
out to dine with friend, and that her en-
| gagement could not be postponed. l offered
to accompany her for part of the way
| to her friends house, and SO turning back
walked with her. l had brought her a
little present from Oxford and when we
again reached the wicket gate gave it to
| her. At the gate we stood awhile talk
lowest bar of the gate. l thought that
she accepted my present coldly, and /
could not prevail upon her to let me &C.
company her any farther than the stile at
the end of the meadows. There we said
| goodbye she telling me to go on to The
Cottage Her father and mother would
be glad to see me, and she would return
home probably before left.
$50 we parted; for was timid about in
sisting about going any further with her
after she forbade it. l had, in reality,
come to ask her to be my wife, and would
to God l had done so? But 1 was I'M
able to understand her reserve, and dis
pleased that she should have refused my
escort So she went on, and turned back
with very heavy heart,
40 ercharged with burden of my own loves
might,
to retrace the steps | had taken at her
side. My companion had reoined me, but
we walked in silence, and l observed that
he kept his face averted from my scrutiny.
"At The Cottage we were received with
kindness and hospitality, and Mrs. Gwynne
insisted upon our remaining until her
daughter returned home. But the after
noon wore away and We saw nothing of the
young lady--only just before our departure
she came in, as we were having some re-
freshments, and then she sat apart from us
talking with her father at the other end OF
the room, of what she had heard at dinner,
gossip about people to me altogether un.
known.
'The time came when it was necessary
for US to leave in order to catch the coach
anu Hdue Hy duleuS. MIS-. OWynne
babe me be sure to come again, Jessy
said nothing, only Goodbye, Mr.. Gibson,
little timidly.
"And my companion and l went back
across the glebe meadow to meet the coach
$50 we have been to The Cottage and
seen Jessy Gwynne,' said he
ayes | answered, slowly My hear
was very heavy. / had met Miss Gwynnt
the previous Christmas, and ever since
had been dreaming young mans dream
of pretty Jessy Gwynne
"'Shall you come to Northbrook again ?
asked my companion
What is the goodg replied.
"For Bob,