The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1891-10-08

mand1ng view OF the grove opposltos
drew her in turn like q magnet.
II was a fine old house Of red brick,
standing well back from the high road,
surrounded by clustering trees and ap-
preached by an avenue Of magnificent
cedars; but the grounds were no longer
trim and well kept, and the numerous
outbuildings were dilapidated and va
cant. An air Of neglect and loneliness,
enhanced by its remote situation from
any town or village, hung about the
place, and its interior corresponded but
too well with this external desolation.
There had evidently been but few
modern additions to the household be-
longings in late years The furniture
was still handsome, but old and massive,
and the brilliant hues Of the Turkey car
pets and the rich curtains had faded to
sober and neutral tints. The bare floors
in some Of the rooms were actually more
cheerful, for they were waxed and rub
bed until they shone like mirrors, and
when the fires were lighted in the open
freplaces the flames glistened upon shin
ing oak and danced on the polished sur
face Of old mahogany and multiplied
themselves in the big brass andirons,
that shone in rivalry Of the brass candle
sticks upon the high, old fashioned man
tells.
As Glen wandered restlessly from room
to room, her home seemed to wear q new
and unfamiliar aspect to her startled
eyes. Suppose 1t should be invaded? II
had always been so sure and peaceful q
haven. Remote and secluded, only the
rumors of war had disturbed its inmates
and the one member Of the immediate
family who had ever been called upon tC
yield to its demands had thus far beer
singularly preserved from danger. But
its grim shadow had taken all the color
out of the girls life. All her oppOrtuni
ties had been sacrificed to it. Every
promise Of her opening girlhood had
been blighted by it.
"You were to have gone to school in
Philadelphia, dear" her mother would
say sometimes, passing her hand ovei
Glen's fine head caressingly, land theT
abroad, if it had not been for the war
your father and l had planned it all.
Or, There is no hope Of your com
ing out, or Of our entertaining for you
as we would once have done. It would
all have been so different II IL had no
been for the war"
OF course these were but minor con
siderations, and the girl unselfshly fell
them to be such. Were there not al
ways graver consequences to be Ia
mented? Had not this Unsuitable wal
snatched from them their all, whitened
her mothers hair with untimely snow
and torn son and brother from theil
arms? And just before her, as sh'
reached the hall, was a sadder evidenc'
than these of its terrOrs.
The hall was a fine old entrance to
fine old house. Its Oaken floor and ricl
wainscot CLEANED in the evening light
and a curiously carved settle ran around
three of its sides.
A few high backed chairs and one OF
two old tables with quaint spindle leg
constituted its meager furniture, but it
noble proportions and rich carvings re
deemed it from baroness, and it wa
sweet with the pine cones and wild flow
ers of which Glen had yesterday rife
the woods. A bowl filed with earl!
violets and pale primroses was places
directly beneath q portrait draped witt
the sad Confederate flag, and looking uI
at the boyish face above her with all tn
fiery tragedy of a hopeless self devotion
written upon it, Glen read once nor
through q mist Of tears the Inscription
beneath:
Captain Helen, a brave soldier and I
gallant commander, fell in leading ;
charge at the battle Of Antietam, Sept
II, 1862"
As she turned away, her eyes instinc
lively seeking the window opposite
which commanded a view Of her foes, sh
started with surprise and terror. ANA
in the uniform Of Union cavalry Office
was making his way up the long ayenu
to the house.