Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-03-05

rocks and gienS have a language OF love.
1t seems as though some fairy had wrought
magic spell over my life, until | almost
fear that 1 shall wake and find it all pass
ing dream, sent to cheat me with its mock
cry"
Eyes, Lloyd" she said, 81 can realize
your happiness by my own. / have been
SO free, so happy no longing for the for
hidden love. All my wishes have been
more than realized. Where shall 1 begin
my story?"
when you were a child; remember
know nothing of your life except the few
months at Waverland"
"Well, then, we will begin in the usual
style. Once upon time there was little
girl" she began in a theatrical tone Then
sober thoughts came, and she continued,
Il was the only child of an English clergy
man. We had beautiful home while my
dear mother lived. But when I was about
ten years old she died From that time my
father seemed to think he must be every
thing to me. He devoted what time he
could spare to my studies When he was
preparing his sermons he would assign me
to some task, and as soon as the lesson
was learned would hear me recite. Then
he would talk with me about it until it be-
~
ately fond of music. Under his patient in
struct1on I learned to play on the piano,
and on the organ in church for him. With
pencil and brush he was good, but never
could satisfy himself. He always insisted
that my fingers were more def than his,
and encouraged me to copy some objects
and pictures as fancied. We had but one
servant and I always helped her with the
Homework. My father said that he wanted
me to be a woman and not a toy with
merely a few accomplishments. One morn
ing when was helping the housekeeper as
usual, she said Your father has strange
notions for an Edglish nobleman.' I was
surpri= /, and said: My father is only
clergyman But she declared that he was
the son Of an English earl, and that be-
cause he married my dear mother his
father had disowned him. I wanted to ask
my father about it but she forbade me.
"Years passed by full of life and study.
When my father made his visits through
the parish, [ was always by his side.
When any one was sick he was often their
physician as well as their spiritual comfor-
ter. With his little case Of homeopathic
remedies he gave ease to bodily pain while
with his genial manner and warm, kindly
heart he cheered them with his words of
counsel, or read to them from the holy
Bible One day [ went into his room and
found him asleep, as l thought He had
not been well for some time, so [ moved
about very quietly, fearing to disturb his
slumberS. AS | came near his chair some
thing about his position attracted my at
tention. placed my hand upon his head
and everything grew dark. l fell and
when [ opened my eyes, was in my own
room. The old nurse and doctor were
standing over me. I asked for my father.
The nurse tried to calm me. But l kept
asking for him until the doctor said that
he was dead. Again there was blank
For weeks lay liz a semi-conscious state.
Tho nurse, (who was our old housekeeper
and my only friend, watched and tended
me faithfully. At last took up the bur
den; all the joy had fed. [ found fifty
pounds safely stored away for me, and
few books, and the old piano. We sold
them for what they would bring and paid
our little debts"
Here Stella paused as though dreading
to continue her sad story.
'My precious darling, how long was that
before you came to Waverland?" | asked,
bringing her nearer to me and pressing
loving kiss on her innocent lips.
"Father died about three months before
I came to Waverland,' she said ''But it
was only a few days before that we sold
our little furniture I saw Annie Wren
whom had often met when l had been
around with my father, and she told me of
your mother wanting a gOverness for your
little sister. She was very kind and Sc
cured the place for me. Our old house
keeper went to live with her brother. She
1o1 q Of
and being quite old she decided not to go
out to service any more. 1t was a sad day
when handed the keys Of tha place we
had called home for so many years to Il
stranger. L visited my fathers grave;
then, with the fifty pounds and few pri
vate papers, [ started out to seek place |
for myself in the world.'
"At Waverland know what you did,"
said, with tenderness. "You taught me |
that life worth living must be an active |
one. And you also taught me that my life |
was not worth the living unless could |
win your love-"
cat Waverland | also learned that there |
is a love that is deeper that the love for a |
parent. The hardest task I ever had was |
to leave Waverland without seeing you |
once more"
II am glad to hear that I said, in my
selfishness. "But where did you go after |
you left there?"
81 visited the little school first, and then
went to the depot"
eyes, darling" said, 1T know all that. |
followed you as far as could"
Il found but little money in my purse" |
"No," l interrupted, II know that you
paid the housekeeper's wages. I am in !
debt to you for fifty pounds. How much |
interest are you going to charger" 1 asked |
playfully
'How do you know that I advanced my
own money!"
81 found the entry in your account book |
the morning after you left. But l found |
no account of a settlement with yourself" |
Il never paid myself though I might |
have done so"
but what made you pay Ingrami" |
asked.
Because she would not obey orders. I |
told her to leave and she said she would |
not Stir one step until she was paid She |
fannt1nolv told me there was not money |
enough i'll the Waverland manson to pay |
her wages, asked her how much it was |
and she said fifty pounds. 1 went to my
room, took the money my father gave me
and paid her, saying: Now, leave Waiver
land! She was astonished but finally left.
1 was relieved. She had defed my orders
in everything, and was ruling your mother
with high hand"
you were brave girl" I said "But |
where did you go from the depot?"
ITO Dublin. In my hurry to leave Wa
yerland l forgot to take the money from