The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-12-14
Storp.


ter myself it is pretty place now. You
are wondering why l should take any
credit to myself about it, but explaining
that involves the story promised you"
Mr.. Montgomery settled himself
more comfortably in his arm chair, and
his companion said:
"Ah, yes. The romantic story of
the Rayne estate. have not forgotten
that promise"
"Yesl Odd genius Raynel We went
to college together and were good
friends. When he went abroad, after
his father died, he gave me charge of
all his affairs, for he was wealthy. The
house and grounds we passed this morn.
ing are a part of the old estate, the
house one of the oldest in this country
There are some bits of English furni-
ture there, brought over before the
Revolution, that would make n COL
lector's mouth water. 1t was an old
fashioned place when Paul Rayne's
father died. and as Paul had a hand
some house in Philadelphia and large
income, it was not surprising that he
did not care to bury himself at Poole
vile. But he married, and lost his
wife and two children with a malignant
fever Then he came back to the old
place. He was not alone. Herman
Rayne, the son of bis brother, long
dead, came with him, and also his wife's
sister, a terrible cripple, whose mind
was enfeebled and body mutilated by a
fall.
Not to weary you too much with
details, this was the family ten years
ago, when Paul Ravne died: Paul
himself Miss Henderson. the crippled
sister in law, Mrs. Clifford, the house
keeper, two servants and last, but far
from least, Lottie Henderson, an or
phan niece of the late Mrs. Rayne.
Herman was in Paris, finishing his
medical studies.
For years before his death Paul
RayDe was a reclusP, a student from
love of knowledge for its own sake. He
wrote no books, sought no opportunity
TO share what he learned, and seemed
to have no interest in life outside of
his home. But in that home he made
it the aim of his monOtonous existence
to train Lottie in intellectual pursuits.
Bless nv lifel / can see the baby now,
before she was seven years old. sitting
at the great library table, studying
Latin grammar. She would slip away
when ! engaged her uncle in conversa-
ton. and the next time / saw her
would be rolling piecrust for Mrs. Cliff
ford. or knitting socks, on the porch.
"She was the lovelest little creature
! ever knew, and Paul Rayne loved her
as if she bad been his own child. Yet,
with the strange fatality so often met
in my profession, he kept putting off
and putting off making new will and
leaving her independent He often
talked of it.
"Of course, l want Lottie to marry
Hermann he would say; but l shall
not make any conditions. / will leave
Clara that was Miss Henderson
must have life income out of the es-
tate.'
But. one morning. when Lottie was
only nineteen. Paul Rayne was found
dead in his studv-chair, and the only
will in existence was on old one, made
before Lottie came to Pooleville, leav-
ing everything to Herman Rayne.
gel suppose / must 90 away the
poor child Lottie said to me, after the
funeral.
"Wait until l hear from Paris
said; for hoped Herman Ravpe would
carry out his uncle's intentions. He
was a wealthy man from his fathers
share of the Ravne property, and |
hoped he would not let Miss Hender-
son or Lottie suffer for his uncle's ne
elect.
81 was not altogether pleased with
his letter, but Lottie was delighted.
$50 shall not live at Pooleville, he
wrote. and certainly should not de-
prive Miss Henderson of home. Will
on OF
any salary you may think right?'
Lottie, as / said, was well pleased
to stay; but you must let me explain
my own regrets. AT eighteen Lottie
was beautiful, pure blonde, tall,
graceful and refined to the very tips of
her aristocratic little fingers. For years
the loving pupil of devoted teacher,
her requirements were rather mascu-
line, but few women choosing the
course of study she had pursued Her
music was her one recreation, and that
she never had been taught. She played
and sang by ear only, but she had won
derful talent and power.
with all her knowledge of Ian
guages, of deep research into many alb
struse studies, she was no bookworm.
Mrs. Clifford had trained her in all
womanly arts, of sewing and house
keeping, and she was essentially wom-
AMY in disposition and tastes.
"Now, it did not please me to have
this lovely, winsome girl, at the very
portals of womanhood, shut up in
gloomy house, mile from any other
residence, the companion of an imbe-
cile woman and the servants. You no
ticed the beauty of the house and
grounds to-day. Ten years ago it was
the most dark and lonely abode you can
imagine. Tall trees surrounded the
house on all sides, shutting out all sun
light; the gardenw was mere taugle of
weeds and flowers, growing as they
would; the furniture was old and
gloomy, and the only new things in the
house were some of the books and the
grand piano.