The morning call., 1891-11-06
RESSIE'S FAULT.

Close the window, my dear; the night air
seems chilly to an old body like me, who has
not your swift young blood, you know, to keep
her warm. Close the window, and sit down
IN this foot>tcol here at my feet. You have
seen the best Of the set; now yuu may
watch its last effect, as l often do when |
EEL lonely in this great house and have
nothing better TO do TO amuse me.
Look at that picture opposite. My picture
il is-MiSS Ressie'S present on my last birth
day-that | might always have her with
me, she said, and not grove so much that
she had grown too old to live all the year
round at this country-seat. but must take her
place in the gay London world as a child OF
the FennimoTes should.
Hundreds of pounds it cost, for il was
painted by one Of those great artists whose
minutes are so many gold en- sovereigns.
BG', bless You, Miss Rassie never thinks
anything too good for poor old nurse; and
aer father. the squire. Is almost bad.
They say the picture cost the artist more
han it did the squire, for he lost his heart
painting 1t. Maybe so; | think men have
lone little else since | robe1 my darling in
her fl ST long dresS-nnd no wOnIer!
You have never seen her; and such
wOndrOuS beauty is too rare and delica to
for word or brush painting. Why, genius
threw his whole soul into that portrait; but
only in therays of the setting sun can il do
her faint justice.
Look now. as the golden light falls full on
the sweet, proud face, on the glossy hair,
and eyes and mouth smile down upon us
from the canvas. That smile has stolen into
many gallant young heart, my dear, warm
ing and brighte it for while as these
dying snnbeamS warm and brighten my
rOOm. But il left them cold and dark, dark
rs Ii Will grow presently in the cloaning,
whilst tell you of Miss Kessie's fault and
of its cure.
1t was the only fault she had, think; but
it was a grave one, and bitter was the pun
,shment. They tell NE that you are fiighty,
that you love to torment your SweetheartS,
that some have been heard to speak evil OF
you because Of your, coQuetry, 1t may be
TINE or II may be false. In either case let
me tell you of the retriDution coquetry
brought to my sweet young lady only few
months ago.
Il was in March that the housekeeper re-
eeived letter from the squire He and
Miss Ressie would arrive from London in a
week. Apartments must at once be pre-
pared for them and for a distant relative, n
vOung officer, who was then returning, Sc
yerely wounded from the Gold Coast, and
diately
A few days later and Miss Ressie sat at
my knee, as you do now and told me all
about it-that the wounded officer was q
distant cousin, between whose father and
the squire & GOODNESS had arisen, widening
as the years rolled on, which effectually
prevented all Intimacy or the acquaintance
even OF their children. so that Hugh Cam
erOn and BESSIE FennimOre were scarcely
aware of each others existence; that Mr.
Hugh-he bore her Najastv's commission Of
ensigu-ioiued the Ashantee expedition;
that he fought like lion during the ad-
va ce on COmassie, but received what ap-
Peared likely to be his death-wOund in res
cuiIg common soldier from the blood
thirsty SavageS just as they were about to
hehead him.
1t was terrible struggle-four to one,
but lie killed them all. and then tainted
from less of blood on the body of the man
be had s1ved. When he came TO he would
not leave this man, whose leg was broken,
but sat by him until tile main body came
uP. well knowing that discovery by any
struggling party of the enemy would be GER
tain death. His life was despaired of, and
Sir Garnet Wolseley wrote himself 10 the
squire, Mr.. Hugh'S nearest Telative-fOr
father and mother had long been dead-a
full account of his heroism, and, shortly
aiterward, OF his partial recovery.
Oh, 1t was grand deed" said Miss
Ressie, eyes 81 arking and her cheeks glow
ing with enthusiasm. Ito dOubly peril his
IF , not for friend. or even acquaintance,
but for common soldier. Papa is gone to
meet him on his return, ana will bring him
here by easy stages: and we will all nurse
our nero llil lie gets wei anu strong again..
But how about leaving your host of Lon
don admirers?' 1Objrcted. You can make
NO new cOnquestS here"
They may admire themselves with undi-
yIded devotion" she replied. AS for con-
quests, you foTg+t my good nurse, that l
have to wage war upon this redoubtable
eCusin OF mine. He shall fad my weapons
more sure than those of the Ashantees"
shook MY head sadly. 1t was useless to
renew our old disputes. Miss Ressie's CO.
euctTy was unchanged; and l trembed for
Tie brave solder who might meet with
wore misfortune here than in African wilds.
L Shall never forget the arrival of the
squire and MS guest | am only Il poor,
simple old woman, my dear; and when |
hear lords and ladies rave about the beau
ties of some great picture cannot under
stand or appreciate in the gallery yonder,
think what a grand thing it must be TO
have ones taste refined by education; but |
looked on a picture that evening which
stole into my heart and engraved Itself
there.
Miss Ressie was the first to hear the rum
be of wnec!s. She was on tine terrace in
an instant. just as the squire turned to as
sist Mr.. Hugh from the carriage Poor fe-
low! He locked like specter almost his
clothes hanging about him, and his wan face
sn thin and cOlorless. A radiant smile broke
over II, however, as his gaze fell upon Miss
Re>Sie. The sun was as low as at this mo-
menf, and she had to shade her eyes with
DtI lNb IltLle White UdIuS WnlSt the warm
light playing on her golden hair wrapped it
in kind OF halo. Like an angel she looked,
and still more so when she saw how weak
he was; aud, with tender, plying rev
erence IN her beautiful eyes, she raised one
Of his poor, transparent hands and placed
1t on her shoulder as the squire helped him
up the steps. He would have protested, |
think, but the glance decided him, and, with
gentleman's true instinct he bowed his
head and permitted the grateful service.
All the next week he was terribly pros
trated, but gentle and patient, thanking me
with word or smlle for all did, and my
heart warmed with kind of mothery feel
ing to the poor young gentleman. He al
ways appeared better when Miss Ressie was
IN tie room. Her presence and the scent of
the beautiful flowers she brought and ar
ranged SOothed him, l suppose. He was
too weak to talk.
In few days. however, he began to mend
and TO watch Tor her coming; and by de-
greeS he would converse little. Or she
would sing To him in the twilight, or coax
him to tell her of his wanderlngs by land
and sea; for, after his parents died, he had
lived an unsettled life, roaming from land
to land, aud always out of the beaten track.
lie iiad mad Wild adventures in the far
Nest among the red men, in South African
forests, and in the land of the Incas
wherever that may be. He gained strength
daily, and would get quite excited some
times, till his voice rang out as though he
men. And it did not hurt him much; for,
when the squire woke up from his after
dinner nap and Miss Ressie joined him be-
low, MIR. Hugh would sit quite silent and
quiet. resting, with a peaceful gladness on
his face that was pleasant TO behold.
Yet one thing troubled me. AS Mr.. Hugh
grew stronger, NJ ISIS Ressie resumed the old
manner which had brought so many TO her
feet. and | bethought me CT the chat we had
previous to his arrival. There was nothing
one could hold up to censure; it was simply
the exercise of a fatal gift of f~cinatIon,
for which she had often laughiugly declared
she was not responsible.
Mr.. Hugh was under the SPELL He
frightened at her approach. There was a
softening of the vOice-such sweet voice
be had!-in addressing her. and his eyes
would follow her out of the room as though
they would not let her go. Something
must be done, and quickly. or verify he was
lost man. l resolved to use all my intiu-
eDce with my darling lest this new sin
should be laid to her charge.
f.