Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1893-12-28
AT WAR With HERSELF.
The Story Of WOman's AtOnement,
by Charlotte N. Braeme.
CHAPTER !.

A quaint, old-fashioned, large, gray
stone house, irregularly built, with u
green, sloping lawn that led to the
banks Of the River Thames-a house
that had once been the esort of the
gay, the young, and the beautiful, but
had now lost its estige. Courtly
danes in rich brocades no longer rus
tied through the stately rooms and the
broad corridors. Knights with plumed
casques no longer rode from among the
trees. Kings Court was deserted-it
had fallen upon evil days, and was now
known only as "The Ladies' College,
Kew"
No bright flowers with gorgeous
colors smiled on the lawn; no tame
white doves fluttered around the foun-
tain. Miss Templeton, the conductor
of "The Ladies' College," considered
birds and flowers as necessary parts Of
creation" but she did not care to Guilt
vate them.
The windows of the house were all
closed, the blinds we're carefully drawn.
Sunshine was all very well in its way,
but, as 1t caused carpets and curtains
to fade, besides causing young eyes to
brighten and young hearts to beat, it
was most carefully shut out Hence
gray shadow and white silent gloom
reigned within Kings Court, while the
large rooms were all quiet and dull,
and the ticking of clocks and the creak-
ing Of doors could be distinctly heard.
At the back there was another pic
ture. First came q large playground
II had once been courtyard-thena
quaint old-fashioned garden, and an or
chard where the trees In autumn
dropped under the burden of ripe, rich
fruit; and there the domain Of Miss
Templeton ended. The indication of
this was little gate, always carefully
locked, which led into kind Of cop
pice that opened out into broad beau
tiful woodland.
A pretty brook ran between low
banks-a brook that came from far
away, and ran into the rivera brook
that would have made poets heart
leap for Joy, so clear, limpid, and rapid
was 1t, washing over many-colored
stones with q musical murmur that
told of bright, far-of scenes. A clus-
ter of alder trees bent over it, and a
young girl sat under their shade. If
Greuze had painted her with the glim-
mering sunlight falling upon her
through the green foliage, the picture
would have been immortal
! The brook ripples, the birds sing, the
sun shines, and the flowers send up
soft streams of fragrance all seem in
harmony with the fair fresh loveliness
of the girl, who cannot yet have seen
eighteen summers. Lovely though it
be, the face is not very happy one;
there is sunshine around it, but not
In it,
The girl looked like young prin-
cess, she was so charming so dainty,
so fair. Yet life was all wrong with
her, empty, dreamy and dull. There
was passionate upbraiding in the
bright, proud eyes as she raised them
to the blue heaven.
Some sigh for genius, for fame, she
murmured; IL ask for love and money.
Let me taste some few of the pleasures
of the world; the warm life within me
cries out for them. Would that some
spirit could stand before me and tell
me whatever l wished for should be
mine! What should be my first re-
quest? Make me lady of title and
wealth, would say"
Suddenly she paused-there certainly
was voice calling,
Miss Rayner, where are you?"
For one moment, remembering her
thoughts, she was half-frightened, and
then she smiled.
It's only John. Why are all serv-
ants named John, wonder? And. as
this is the last day of the holidays,
and therefore the last day that l am to
have peace or quiet, what can John
want me for?"
She was soon to know.