The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1891-05-23


clearing in the woods, until at last westOpped
at the door of low, irregularly built house,
with creeper-covered walls, and a look of
neatness-not to say primness-about it
which was greatly at variance with the
neglected air of the surrounding garden
and outhouses.
An old woman, who was as neat as the
house, and who, l learned later, was the
wife of my gruff driver, opened the door
and greeted me with an oId-fashioned cour-
tesy, while behind her appeared lady
whom I -correctly-to be Miss
Denison herself.
NY hostess was largely made woman,
of somewhat gaunt figure, who looked about
fifty, and who must have been handsome
| in her youth. Her hair, under its neat cap,
was very gray, and there was worn and
anxious expression in her gray eyes which
somewhat belied the great cheerfulness of
her cordial welcome to me.
Probably | did not see all this at the
first glance; after-events stamped it on my
memory.
'I hope we shall be able to make you
comfortable, Mr.. Erskine," she said; ''you
must promise to tell me if your want any
thing, and | will do my best to please you
1t is the first time we have taken boarder.
so YOU will know that if anything is not
quite to your liking, it is my inexperience,
not my will, that is at fault"
stammered some sort of profession Of
faith in her powers; and to turn the con-
versation, expressed my delight at the
beauty of the place, the woods, and the
pond -lake-I did not know which to call
it.
"The Folks Mere, it is called" she said;
'and the wood, the Folks Wood. The
names have come down from the days when
they were thought to be the haunts of the
fairies-the Good Folks"
at is a lovely name," l said fervently,
''I hope I may catch sight of the fairies
that haunt them still
"Ah p she said, and sighed, with the
anxious look plain in her eyes.
| felt rebuffed, for it was something
motherly and sympathetic in her that had
drawn me on.
II will show you to your room, she
went on; "and then, perhaps, you would
like to take stroll about the place before
supper. My father likes to keep to his
old habits, so I hope you will not mind
humoring him by dining early"
OF course, hastened to assure her that
my dinner hour was matter Of supreme
indifference to me; and, after making ac-
quaintance with my bed-chamber- cheer
full, bright room, with spotless drapery,
and windows looking across the garden
into the depths of the wood-I made my
way out of the house and along the avenue
by which we had driven.
Presently turned in among the trees,
wandering here and there, intoxicated with
the beauty and the fragrance, and regard
less Of the direction l took.
Suddenly, little ahead of me, | caught
sight of figure lightly winding its way
among the trunks-a slight, airy figure,
in white garments, that seemed to trip over
the ground without sound of football.
"'Ehe fairy of the woods u whispered
to my heart, "TStanid herselfW
But the airy figure stopped short in a
green ring, where felled trees had made a
clearing, and seated itself on fallen trunk;
and then l perceived that it was human
being, girl; but of so ethereal and delicate
form that less fanciful beholder than |
might well have been excused for taking
her for the guardian sylph of the woods.
She raised her head and gazed intently
at the branches above her, evidently quite
unaware of my presence; and then saw
plainly the soft, pale fairness of her oval
face under its crown of dusky hair, and
the azure of her dilated eyes. As | looked
mot knowing whether to make my
presence known to her or not-a strange,
sweet smile crept over her face, and she
began to speak softly, her outstretched
hands waving gently.
[ turned, intending to creep away unseen;
but my foot trod on a rotten bough, and
at its cracking she started, caught sight
of me, and in a moment had risen, and
was fitting once more through the trees in
what | imagined to be the direction of the
house.
My pulses throbbed. Could she be an
inmate of Folks Field? Miss Denison
had mentioned no one but her father.
The wonder gave me a thrill. Life
grew interesting all at once, and my pur-
posed soiourn among the woods an adven-
ture in fairyland.
l followed the flying nymph at respect
full distance; but saw her no more
At eight o'clock-the hour which, as l
had been informed was appointed for sup
peri descended to the pleasant room,
where a substantial meal was laid with a
neatness and spotless cleanliness that spoke
of Miss Denison's personal supervision, to
find my hostess and her father awaiting me.
"Father," said Miss Denison, "this is
Mr.. Erskine;" and received frigid bow
from one of the handsomesa as well as the
sternest-looking old men l have ever met.
Mr.. Denison of Folks Field was six feet
two in height, and bore his seventy-odd
years upon shoulders that put my slight,
stopping ones to shame; while he carried
his naughty head, with its mass of silver
hair, with the pride of an acknowledged
monarch Of the earth. His garments
like his garden and outbuildings-told of
age and rigid economy; but he wore them
as though they had been royal robes.
l had been on the point of putting out
my hand as Miss Denison introduced me;
but at the sight of that freezing bow
withdrew it, with shame and confusion in
my breast; it was as if | had offered to
shake hands on being presented to court.
Mr.. Dennison led the way to the table,
where sat at his daughters right hand.
The table was laid for four, and before 1
had begun to eat had become aware that
both my companions glanced at the unoc-
cupied place opposite me with varid ex-
pressions.
Miss Denison's faded face showed hot
flush on each cheek bone, and l saw her
anxious eye wander from the empty chair
to her father more than once as she talked
to me. Mr.. Denison had cast one stern
Il