The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1894-03-11
CHAPTER III.
AT TY-ISSA.

1t was the sort of weather to which of
late we have grown accustomed when
Darcy EnSmore leaving his valise at the
| railway hotel, started TO walk the five long
miles that lay between the little Welsh
station and the home of his fathers rela-
! tive.
| Whether or no he did not properly un-
derstaDd the directions given him in a dia-
| lect with which he was not familiar, GER
tain 1t is that after walking between two
and three hours, he was still liable TO dis
Germ the twisted chimneys and four tall pop
lars that were to be his landmarks. Happily
for him, a kindly farmer came by while he
was resting on stile. debating whether it
would not be more prudent to go back to
! the hotel and make fresh start on the
morrow than to risk being overtaken by
the storm cloud that was rapidly approach
ing.
However. this good man went half a
mile out of his own way TO enable Darcy
to reach his destination. There was long
steep hill TO climb, moorland plateau 10
cross, and then, in a deep valley or glen
beyond, he could see the pOplars bending
before the storm blast, and the gray old
UNCOVERED house, where Miss Ensmore
had resided some fifty years or more.
Built was very rough path that wound
down and down the precipitous descent:
so rough that IL would have been difficult
to any but goat or native under The
most favorable circumstances. and was
positively dangerous when the storm burst
upon Darcy, as it did before he had taken
many steps.
There was no shelter to be bad, whether
he turned back or went on, and deceived
by the calm beauty of the morning, he
had not provided himself with an over
coat. Nor was his umbrella of any use.
except as walking staff. for the fierce
gusts of wind rendered holding it UP an
lmpossibility. Sometimes jumping from
rock to rock, sometimes sliding or rolling
down the slippery places. Darcy was by
the time be reached the hill foot covered
with mud and bruises. The wet dripped
from his clothes. his boots were full of
water, and his hat-battered out of shape
hung over his face like a limp mass of
damp blOtting-paper.
a more detected object had never before
presented itself at the gate of Miss Ems
more's pretty secluded demesne than
reached it just as young lady. shielded
from the weather by a very becoming
waterproof, ran around an adjacent corner
and that SO rapidly as to cannon against
Darcy.
With an exclamation of surprise she
pushed back the hood that had partly
obscured her vision and gazed wonderingly
at the dripping apDaritiOn, while Darcy,
with the unmistakable demeanor OF a GEN
tleman, apologized and hoped the lady was
uDhurt.
Darcy saw ner pretty Drown eyes sparkle
with fun and her rosy lips culver and
laughed. too. though it was at his own ex-
pense.
"Can you direct me to an inn ?" he in
quired. my errand here was to request
tlve minutes conversation with Miss Ems
more, but i am In such deplorable plight
that l really must get dried and brushed
up before can ask her 20 receive me-"
"You are Indeed dreadfully wet" she
said, endeavorlng to appear serious, but
falling as often as she glanced at him.
"Pray come in and let the servants see
what they can do for you. am sorry to
say there is no inn nearer taan"-she
favored him wi b the ive-syllable name of
a village-'and that is two miles off,"
She opened the gate while speaking and
led the way up trellIsed walk at the fur
ther end of which. could be seen large,
glazed porch filed with climbing roses
and foreign shrubs. The house was low
and old-fashioned, but so thoroughly cared
for end so EMPOWERED In greenery that il
was charming.
81 do not think we know you. sir" his
guide observed naively.
81 have cardcase in one OF my pockets"
he replied, "but am afraid the cards it con-
fains are not in a condition TO offer you, so
must in iroduce myself personally. l am
Darcy Ensmore, the son OF distant rela-