Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1895-04-24

tinental scenery" said the squire, joinin:
her.
1T has n great charm for me. There i.
n sense of life, and freedom. and cheerful
ness in English landscape that you scarce
ly ever find elsewhere" She descended
the steps to the graveled path beneath as
she spoke, her companion following, and
coming up beside her
You have preserved u large amount OF
patriotism in spite of your long sojourn
abroad"
Il have; yet love Germany, too. wa.
very happy there"
Were you ever unhappy" he asked,
with slightly contemptuous uplifting
! of his brows.
well, no, do not think ever was. l
nave been very, very sorry for the trouble
of my friends, but not on my own ac-
| >ount"
| So talking. they walked across the
/ pleasure grounds, and through a gate
| which admitted them to a wide, park like
| stretch of pasture, bOrdered at one side
| by strip of woodland into which the path
led Soon the ground began to slope
steeply down to n shallow valley, at the
bottom of which ran a small rapid river,
| chating and murmuring among big, black,
wet stones. and leaping Cayly over an
abrupt rocky barrier, some few hundred
yards above, where they struck upon the
stream. A narrow, ivy-grown bridge
| spanned the fall, turning toward which
they came in sight of low, irregular
house, or rather cottage, ON the opposite
side.
"How thoroughly English this looks
said the squire. 1T is Arcadian; but you
will be awfully bored after awhile, and
! the sight of your abode reminds me /
have not asked for Mrs. L'Estrange."
"She is quite well, and will be very
| pleased to see you"
| and 1 shall be only too glad to trouble
| you with my presence; but not this morn
ing. l have n pile of letters to answer,
and an appalling amount of arrangements
to make. In short. 1 ought not to have
come so far afied with YOU"
| You are n voluntary truant," she re-
'urned, pausing on the bridge.
| That l acknowledge. Now l have
seen you to the edge of your own territory,
l will say good-by. If come and beg a
cup of coffee about eight or nine this even
lug. l suppose shall not be barred out?"
IF the door is locked we will let You
in through the window
He bowed, and raising his soft felt hat
with easy grace, stood looking after her as
she walked away with smooth, light
| step down the path which led toward the
cottage.
Clifford Marsden, the squire of Ewes
| leigh, was one of the fortunate individuals
| sometimes described as having been born
with silver spoon in his mouth" He
had succeeded his father while still a
schoolboy; the savings of his minority
| enabled him to start clear of all incum-
IN n han he s.
sixteen or seventeen years which had
, since elapsed had been diligently occupied
W him in creating fresh ones.
He had lived with boundless extrava
gance and self-ndulgence. He had don.
everything, seen every ything, exhausted
everything possible for a gentleman whose
character was still fair, whose popularity
was undiminished. Bankers and city men
knew that his lands were heavily mort
gagged: but society, as yet, only admired
his magnifcence, without doubling his
Solvency.
Eveseigh had seen little of its maste,
of late years, but in his bOyish days. and
| for some time after attaining his major.
ity, Marsden hunted and shot in due sea-
ION at Evesleigh.
His near neighbor and relative waa
Colonel L'Estrange of Brookdale, the cot
| .age just described.
The beauty o. the site had probably
induced the builder OF Evesleigh House
to place that editice on the verge of the
estate, for the stream above mentioned
was its boundary on this side. The farm
and residence of Brookdale had been Dur.
chased by the squire's great-grandfather,
who settled 1t on mis- only daughter This
lady had married a penniless soldier of
good family. Colonel L L'Estrange was her
grandson.
He had married in India and soon after
his return home, his delicate wife died
somewhat suddenly, leaving him a baby
girl of about FIVE years old. The colonel,
a grave, taciturn man, old for his years,
and unsociable in habits, lived on In hi.
humble home, finding consolation in sport,
and looked up to the young Squire of
Evesleigh as a mighty hunter, an unerrins
shot
When Leonora, or Nora L'Estrange,
who was a pet and plaything with her
cousin, had reached her tenth year, her
father suddenly discovered she was too
old to be left entirely with her nurse. OF
boarding school he would not hear, and.
in short, the only solution to the difficulty
which found favor In his eyes, was imme-
diate marriage with a pretty pale, timiG
girl, the orphan daughter Of former
friend, whom he found in a dependent po-
| sition, as companion to a rich old maiden
lady, in the neishboring cathedral town
of Oldbridge.
The new Mrs. L'Estrange was barely
twelve years older than her step-daughter,
and the Oldbridge gossips prophesied that
the young lady would be too much for hei
fathers wife.
But, by some mysterious influence of
sympathy or mutual comprehension, they
drew to each other. Indeed, the old nurse
did not hesitate to say that her young lady
was regularly bewitched, and, for her
part, was free to confess that it seemed
horrid unnatural for a child to be so talk.
en- up with her step-mother.
However. Colonel L'Estrange havinA
been ordered to some German bath for
cure of rheumatism, brought on by stand
ing knee-deep in the river, fishing, re-
moved his family, now increased by an
other daughter, beyond the reach of Old
bridge gossip, and, for reasons best known
to himself, let Brookdale for several
years.
He was already half forgotten when
the local papers announced his death ut
Dresden.
His widow continued to reside abroad
till the term for which Brookdale had been
let expired, and had only returned, with
her own and her step-daughter, in the
preceding spring.
The ladies' of Brookdale had finished
their midday meal, which was luncheon to
their neighbors and dinner to themselves.
teaching depressed looking Dachshund,
Little Beatrice, Nora's half-sister, was
with out-turned toes. to beg, when neat
oarlor maid opened the door and said: