Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-01-01
CHAPTER III.-THE COVERINGS.

had been from home two years, and as
I came up the avenue to the Waverland
mansion could not help thinking what a
deserted old place it was. The gate lodge
was in dilapidated condition: the gate
itself hung by one hinge. The avenue was
covered with weeds. The young forest,
once the pride OF Lord Wayerland, was
open to the cattle, and the park about the
house was used for a horse pasture The
venerable old house itself built century
ago, with tower and turret, was going TO
ruin The windows were filled with
boards or rags to keep out the weather.
and the steps were hardly safe to mount.
by the ghost of St. Patrick if there amt
Sir Loyd!" said Michael O'Shane, the Old
butler, who, with an enormous wig, high
coat collar and stiff cravat, met me at the
door.
eyes, Mike, this is Lloyd" I said, shak-
ing his hand with real pleasure. 81 am
glad to be at home again. So this is Wa
verland?"
''This is Waverland," he said; land it's
right glad we are to see you home again.
found the inside of the house in as great
disorder as the out. The elegant old furni
ture was moth eaten and covered with
dust; and the musty smell that greeted me
was enough. did not care for closer ac-
quaintance. I finally made my way to my
mothers ROOM 1t was the only place that
seemed inhabited. My dear, dear motherl
How my heart yearned to cheer her life!
Good morning, mother; here's your big
boy back again!' l said, as came to her,
where she sat by the window busy with
her thoughts.
ooh NV con INV son ara voJ, at horoa
once more?" she cried, throwing her arms
about my neck and INDUCING in tears of
joy. And, / confess, my own eyes were
dim for a moment, for two years had made
great change III the face so near my own.
The dark brown hair was lined with gray,
and the pure white brow was marked with
care. / folded her in my arms, saying,
Chow is this? you seem almost an in
| valid?"
II have suffered great deal of late, but
| now you are at home 1 shall soon be we'll
| again. I think this dreary old house makes
me feel blue" And she drew a long SIGH.
half pleasure, half pain.
Where is Lord Wayerland? The old
place seems going to ruin"
He is in Paris; he has only been at
home for few weeks at a time for years
| He says the old place is too dull for his
| high temperament" said my mother in a
| slightly sarcastic tone.
Here is Myrtle, your little sister," she
| said, as a young girl with bright blue ewes
] and haxen hair came bounding into the
room. ''She is my little sunbeam. MYRTLE.
| your brother"
The child paused a moment, giving me a
| searching glance as though asking herself
| if we could be friends. Then she came tn
| me, and clasping her arms around nv
neck as I stopped toward her, put I'D her
| full red lips for kiss. She was small for
her age, looking far younger than she
| really was.
| Taking a chair by my mothers side.
| with Myrtle on my knee, we began to fill
| the space our letters had left vacant.
| While we were busy talking of the past. a
| young lady came into the room. She was
| plain looking, with soft brown eyes that
| had a pleasant look. and silken brown hair
that lay in natural waves above a clear
! white brow. As she came to my mothers
chair, thought to myself, you are girl
OF independence, whoever you are" indi-
Gated by her firm, elastic step and noble
carriage.
Miss Everett, my son, Sir Lloyd" said
| my mother as she came to her side.
| She gave me a modest greeting, then at
| ter asking some questions Of my mother,
[ left the room.
"Myrtle's new governess. She only came
last week, but I am very fond of her. She
inspires me with comfort" said my moth.