Los Angeles herald., 1892-06-11
@JADIS."

growing dusk, but it was not going t,
be very dark this summer night TIL,
weeds had been cut and drifted dow1
stream in thick masses. A thin, middle
aged man stood by the lock gates
watching an approaching boat. He was
dressed in country clothes, but he had
not the air of acountryman; he was pale
and had look of experience. Save fol
the regular sound of the sculls every.
thing was quite still. Save for the man
at the lock gates and the solitary occu.
pant of the boat there was no. one in
sight. It was wide, fiat, desolate
scene.
The boat was rather a heavy tub, and
the man who was sculling was tired and
out of temper. Asa rule, he was thought
to be q distinctly brilliant and genial
young man; but he wanted to get on to
Nunnisham. which was five miles be-
yond the lock, that night, and he had
been delayed by the weeds. The gods
had given him extraordinarily good
looks and many other good things;
enough to keep him genial, unless, as
on the present occasion, circumstances
tried him severely. At the lock he
drew into the bank and hailed the mid
die aged man who still stood watching
him.
"Hi! what are the weeds like above
the lockr
every bad, SIR" The answer was
given in serious, respectful voice.
The young man swore gently to him
self. SIS there any place near here
where could put up for the night?"
''There is only public house, sir.
am the landlord of tiny name is Hill.
/ could give you bedroom, little
rough perhaps, butt"
"Good-a bed and some supper-cap-
itall That is the only bit of luck I've
had today" AS he was speaking the
young man picked up small knapsack
which was lying in the stern of the boat
and jumped out He made the boat
fast and joined the landlord on the tow
path.
"It is this way. You will let me carry
that for you, sir"
As they walked along the brilliant
young man-his name was Philip Vince
-chatted freely. He was taking holi-
day up the river and was to have joined
q friend at Nunnisham that night and
then gone on with him the day after.
He told the landlord all this and also
surmised that Hill was not native of
the fen country.
"No, sir" was the answer, II was
valet to Sir Charles Sulmont. You have
perhaps heard of him."
Philip had never heard of him, but
said that he had.
"When Sir Charles died he left me a
little money and married maid who
was then in Lady Sulmont's service.
bought this house with little assistance
from her ladyship and settled here. l
was very young then and have been
here eighteen years."
Philip gathered from further talk as
they went along that Mrs. Hill was
dead, and that she had left one child,
Jeanne, girl of seventeen, who lived
with her father. When they reached
the inn, Hill showed Philip bedroom
a large, comfortable room. and began to
make some apology about supper. They
very rarely had any one staying in the
house, and there was nothing left but
here Philip interrupted:
"You would be doing me kindness
If you would let me have supper with
you and your daughter. Ihate solitude.
mean, if your-if Miss Hill wouldn't
object"
eff you really wish it, sir, should be
very pleased; so also, am sure, would
Jeanne" Hill was born valet; he had
the manner; if he had lived out Of
service for a hundred years he would
have been valet still. When Hill left
him, Philip looked around the room
and congratulated himself. Everything
was very neat and clean. The landlord
was a capital fellow--a little solemn,
perhaps, but still a capital fellow. This
was far above the accommodation which
he had expected.
Just then light football came up the
stairs, and Philip caught snatch of a
French song. The song stopped short
Just before the football passed his door.
Philip conjectured that this must be the
daughter, and that it had been French
maid that Hill had married-hence the
name Jeanne and that snatch of song;
also that the daughter had been warned
of his arrival, and had gone to put ON
her prettiest dress. All Of these con-
lectures were quite correct. And yet
when Jeanne entered the sitting room, a
few minutes afterward, and saw Philip
for the first time, she was so startled
that she showed it slightly. Philip was
also little surprised, for different
reason, and did not show it at all. He
had thought of the possibility that
Jeanne might be pretty, and she was
beauty-a brunette, childlike in many
ways, but with a woman's eyes. Her
voice was good, and her first words
showed that she had some education.
It took her about ten minutes to get
from decided shyness to complete conf
dence. Philip was feeling far too good
tempered to let any one be shy with him;
he made Hill and his daughter talk, and
be talked freely himself. He liked the
Of everything about him; he
had grown tired of formalities in Lon
don. He liked cold beef and salad, for
he was very hungry, and-yes, above all,
he liked Jeanne. What on earth were
that face and that manner doing in a
riverside inn? She was perfect; she did
not apologize too much, did not get
did not have red hands, spoke
correctly, laughed charmingly-in o