The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1892-04-22
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| journey from the metropolis to the vii
lage of Wilmington, a distance of one
hundred and twenty-five miles, which
he accomplished in little more than two
hours.
In fact, the village church clock was
| just striking six as he strolled from the
pretty railroad station to the quaint old
| lattice-windowed hostelry, the ''Arun-
| del Arms - such house of entertain
ment as Dickens would have loved to
picture.
What a lovely place this village was
doubly lovely in Harry's eyes, for it was
his first glimpse of real rural England,
outside the beaten track of tourist
travel.
The thatched cottages, the great gar
dens, the giant trees, the old stone
houses, the ivy-clad church, came in
for share of his admiration.
| He devoted that evening to tete-a-
tete interview of his host, a genial old
fellow, who was glad to share with the
young American gentleman the bottle
of wine he had ordered for the 'good
of the house,
"Know Wilmington hall!' said that
worthy, with a vigorous puff at his
long ''churchwarden" pipe. ''Why, sir,
l lived there man and boy for close on
forty year. I've known it ever since
I've known anything"
SIS it far from here?" Harry asked.
"About three miles, over the prettiest
country the eye of man ever rested on"
81 heard in London that the earl has
not been there for a long time" young
| Evesham ventured, for he knew how
jealous these old retainers were of the
honor of the families to which they had
| been attached.
Not for twenty years. There was
good deal of talk about his going away,
| taking with him as he did his little
blind son, with no one to tend on 'em,
| too but William Bladon-though Will
liam Bladon was right good sort for
all that-and never to be heard of all
these years"
An instant thought flashed through
Harry's brain. So wild conjecture
that he hardly dared to entertain it.
Lord Arlington's family name is
Arundel. is it not?'
(Which it certainly isl assented
| John Horner. 'Hence the name of my
| hostelry, The Arundel Arms -
Harry reflected for minute. This
| landlord seemed an honest fellow.
Why not take him into his confidence
and make clean breast of the object
of his mission?
''Well, Mr.. Horner, I know in Amer
lea young man who would be likely
to correspond to the lost little blind
boy"
''Indeed, STRIP
"4es, and many surrounding circum-
stances point to his Identification. The
young man l speak of is just the
age Earl Arlington's son would be; his
name is George Arundel; his attend
ants name is William Bladon; for years
he has been wandering over America
with his father, who died year
ago; and at the present moment he is
in Brooklyn at the house of friend of
mine"
"Great heavens, man, do you know
what you are saying?" Horner gasped,
almost breathless at such astounding
news; "but, you must let me call my
wife in-she's got head on her shoul-
ders and will set us right about it. Why,
if this young man be-Martha! Mar
thai" The fat landlord couldn't wait
to finish his sentence, but hurried to
the door to call in stentorian tones for
his better half.
| She came. A tall, handsome old
woman, much older than her husband,
her hair as white as snow, and wear-
ing black shade over one of her eyes.
1t was not an unkindly face, but
there was a startled, panied expression
In 1T which attracted Harry's instant
observation. She looked like one who
is expecting some impending misfor-
tune to happen, and is in daily dread of
the blow falling.
Remembering Wanda Arlington's des-
cription of just such person and that
she associated her with affectionate
"reminiscences, he resolved to be more
candid with her than he had been with
her husband, who was now in very
excited manner pouring into her ears
the story he had just heard from the
young American.
"Ah," she said with a sigh, chow you
startled me. thought it was of the lit
tie girl you might have heard"
"And, perhaps, bring you news of
her too, Mrs. Horner," Harry said.
The color left the woman's face in a
moment.
''Of the lady Wanda?" she asked, 'tof
the sweet, babe we-but, John Horner
go down and attend to the customers;
it will never do to leave the house un-
tended.n
Honest John was loath to obey her
behest, but in this case the gray mare
was evidently the better horse, for she
peremptorily ordered him to go and he
dutifully went.
Now, sir, we are alone" she said
land for heavens sake, keep me no long
er in suspense"
Harry Evesham told his story, watch
ing with interest the strange fluctua-
tions in the woman's expression as the
details developed,
When he had finished, he handed her
Wanda's portrait.
:'How-like what at-her mother
was" Mrs. Horner sobbed, devouring
the picture with her eyes.
''Then you are sure of her identity?"
Gas sure as that | am sitting in this
chair, SIR"
"And, will you help me to prove that