Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1892-11-25

mo- to SUCH So thought Id just
speak to you, before"
"Where are tbeyl" said the Squire,
rubbing the gold knob of his walking
cane against his nose, and Simpson knew
that the case Of the forlorn strangers was
safe enough.
"Mother, don't fret; here comes the
gentleman now," said a clear, soft
toned voice, and Squire Pehdexter
found himself looking into pair OF
wistful, deep blue orbs-orbs that be-
longed to a slight, beautiful girl dressed
in faded fabric and worn shoes, who
was leaning against the well-curb. For
while Simpson had been gone on his
errand of inquiry, she had drawn
bucket Of clear, cold water out OF the
sparkling depth Of the we'll aud given
her mother a drink out of the silver
bound gourd which always hung there.
"Sir," without moments hesitation,
might have job of work in your hop
feldsl We have come from the city
mother and there's no living to be
picked up there. and my mother is all
ing, and we thought the smell Of the
hops might do her good. Please, sir,
we'd work cheap, if only we might
sleep in the barn and have bit OF some
thing to cat between whiles."
81 don't want you to work cheap'
said the squire, assuming an aspect OF
unwonted gruffoess to cover the SYM
pathetic thrill in his voice. 81 never
grudged moneys worth for good, honest
work. As for the barn, my housekeeper
can put you in one of the vacant back
chambers over the kitchen, and there's
always enough to eat at Pendexter
FARM"
"PenueXtet arm
The woman who had been sitting on
the messy cattle,trough slowly lifted her
head here and pushed back her worn
suu-bonnet.
"Where are we, Isora2 Whittier have
we comet l knew a man by the name
of Peudexter, once, who"
EYES," said the squire, who had given
little start at the first sound of that
low contralto voice. "It was l, Clara
Caprivil To think that Fate should
have brought US together again after all
these years.
The pale woman struggled to her feet
and clutched at her daughters slim,
strong arm.
"Let us 60, Isora, said she. Owe
VIC have made mistake. Give me my
shawl. Quick Let us gol"
"But, mother, wbyl" soOthed the
girl, who scarcely as yet comprehended
all this by-play. "Don't you hear what
the gentleman saysl We can have work
here and food aud shelter! Mother, sit
down againl You are trembling all
over"
81 tell you, child, you don't know"
said impatient Clara, possessed with
sort of wild, unreasoning terror. "We
we must go!"
"Clara," said the squire, he himself
assuming the direction OF affairs, ''the
child is right. Let by-gOnes be by
cones. You don't suppose would turn
you from my doorl"
Clara looked into his face.
"Have you forgiven me, theni" said
she.
Forgiven youl Yes, years and years
ago. Let us be friends again, Clara"
For his heart ached to see how pale
and wan she was-how haggard were
her cheeks and how like smoldering fire
the light burned 10 her sunken eyes.
She told him all that afternoon while
pretty Isora was stripping the clustered
hops from the vines with dozen girls
as pretty and as blooming as herself.
How her life had been an aimless wreck;
how Carlo Caprivi had been no count
after all, but naReleEs pretender, with
neither honesty nor honor; how he had
left her, with the baby Isora on her
hand, to shift as best she might for
herself, aud was killed in a gambling
bawl; how she had struggled on for
yeals, constantly feeling herself less
able to wage unequal warfare with the
world.
"Cara," said the squire, when she
had finished, "why didn't you come to
mel'
"Because had wrongel you so deep
ly," she faltered.
"You might have known would have
been kind, even to Caprivis child.
Well, it doesn't matter now. You are
here, and you must stay here. Do you
hear me. Claral Must! Bless my
heart You'll grow stronger in these
country breezes, and that pale glrl Of
yours will get a color in her face
So they stayed at the Pendexter Farm,
and beautiful Isora Caprivi grew fsirer
to look upon with every passing day.
"Clara," said The blunt squire one
day. "that girl Of yours is prettier than
ever you were."
81 know it," said Madam Caprivi.
And as she spoke the words, pang
of jealousy struck sharply through her
heart. Yet, was it not natural enough