The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1891-02-22
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

which was nearest to Miss Drummond's
house; and here she found carriage from
the village inn awaiting her as Lady Ennis
more had telegraphed to Miss Drummond to
expect her. A dark drive on November
night did not tend to raise her spirits, and
weary in mind and body alike she at last
reached Ardleigh House, where she found
Miss Drummond and Elizabeth both stand
ing at the open hall door anxiously awaiting
her.
Miss Drummond kissed her silently by
way OF welcome, for she was woman of
few words, and then babe Elizabeth look
after the comforts of Lady Ennismore's
servants, who had received orders to see
Helen safely in Miss Drummond's charge
before they left her, and were conse>
duently obliged to remain all night at Ard
leigh.
Then Miss Drummond led the way into
the old-fashioned, though somewhat pict-
uresquely furnished dining room, or rather
general parlors of the house, and here sup
per was laid out for the weary gi |.
You will be both tired and hungry, my
dear, said Miss Drummond, pointing to a
seat at the Widespread table
II am tired, but not hungry" answered
Helen, and as she spoke her aunt fixed her
gray and penetrating eyes on the young
face whose every expression she knew so
well.
And in a moment she saw the change
This was not the same light-heart ted merry
girl she had parted with few weeks ago
Something had happened to Helen, and q
startled, almost frightened look stole over
Miss Drummond's face.
And you left them all well at Bracken-
ford" c moment later asked Miss Drum
mond.
Yes" said Helen, languidly.
II was afraid when l got Lady Ennis
more's telegram that some of the children
had taken Ill, and that SIZE was sending you
away in such haste to be out Of the way of
Infection
mo, they are ell well,n replied Helen,
turning away her head, for she was con
scious that Miss Drummond was looking at
her curiously.
Then-but never mind now-unfasten
your cloak, Helen, and sit down and have
some supper, and you can tell me all the
news afterward.
Helen tried to comply with Miss Drum
mond's request. She seated herself at the
table, and made an effort to eat something,
but it was only poor attempt. Suddenly
she laid down her knife and fork and rose
from her chair, and went up to where Miss
Drummond was sitting.
"Aunt Margaret" she said, in broken,
agitated voice, taking Miss Drummond's
slender hand spasmodically in her own, 81
want you to tell me somethtng-5o, to an
sUer question"
What is it, my dearr replied Miss
Drummond, gravely, looking anxiously at
the girls eager, excited face,
ST is this-is there anything against
me? Anything l do not know? Any DIS
grace, l mean. about my birth-was my
father
Miss Drummond's gray tinted complexion
grew very white as she listened to these
words, and Helen felt her hand tremble in
her own. She was silent moment, and
then she said in faltering voice:
"What has put such a thing into your
head. child? Why do you ask sucn foolish
questionsP
Something happened at Brackenford
that made me think SO. Lady Ennismore's
manner was SO strange"
Lady Ennismore is very true
woman, Helen; very true friend of
yours"
Eyes, yes, know-and yet she sent me
away at moments notice-sent me away
because-n
What was the reason, my dearT
because" and Helen blushed deeply,
''because-there was young man there-a
Mr.. Roche"
''Rochep echoed Miss Drummond, and
she started to her feet and began to pace
the room with unequal steps, "Didyou say
Rocher'
Eyes, he was staying there-he walked
with me sometimes-and that odious
woman. Miss Sinclair, the governess, found
this out, aud made mischief with Lady En-
nismore, am sure, and then Lady Ennis
more sent me away. But, Aunt Margaret,
do you know any one called RocheF
Miss Drummond gave heavy sigh.
II knew some one when l was a girl
and the name startled me--you may be sure
Lady Ennismore was right, Helen"
But why, Aunt Margaret? Was there
anything against my father that Lady En-
nismore knew? Do tell me. for you know
you never mention him."
Again Miss Drummond sighed deeply.
My dear, your father was an unfortu-
nate man" she said, in low panied tone;
"a man who caused great grief and trouble
to those connected with hin-but he is
dead-and l do not wish TO speak of him
so please, Helen, ask me nothing more"
Miss Drummond sat down YEARLY as she
spoke, aud covered her face with her hand,
as if almost overcome with painful recollec-
tions; and Helen was too warm-hearted to
grieve her with further questions.
Forgive me vexing you, Aunt Margaret,
only I thought Lady Ennismore's conduct
was SO strange" aud Helen kissed her aunt's
forehead as she spoke.
"My DEAR" said Miss Drummond, very
gently, looking upin Helen's face, you may
be certain Lady Ennismore acted for the
best-the best for you, Helen-but do not
let us talk of it. II you are not hungry,
dear. you had best 60 to bed. Your room
is quite ready for you. aud Elizabeth has
nice fire there.n
Once more Helen kissed her aunt, who
tenderly returned it, and thea went to her
own comfortable little bedroom upstairs.
And she was SO tired that she soon fell
asleep in spite of her troubles-fell asleep
and dreamed she was walking with Francis
Roche in the dusky plantations on the
northern hills. Aud the next morning
things looked brighter. After all. ii
Francis Roche really loved her, he would
not give her up SO easily, she consoled hers
self by thinking. He might write; Julia
Bingham knew her address, and would
probably give it to him. At all events,
Julia was sure to write, and so SIZE would
hear of him.
Helen, therefore, went to breakfast in a
more cheerful mood than she had arrived
at Ardleigh on the night before. The sun
was shining for one thing-shining on the
wide azure-tinted waters Of the loch; on tho
vast range Of mountains, with the midst and
sunshine coming and going round their
rugged sides and towering peaks, producing
wonderful effects Of light and color. And