Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1895-10-24
CHAPTER II.
Gould She But Tell the Secret in Her
Life

Not until three days had elapsed
since the evening of Alicia's arrival
was Lady Penrith well enough to see
her granddaughter again. Faithful
Mrs. Ounce, who waited upon he1
ladyship, came down on the second
day. dolefully shaking her head.
| I'm afraid she can't hold out much
longer, Miss Penrith, my dear" the
ancient handmaiden said. Her
| troubles will soon be over. Sad as
it nd be to see her go, Heaven knows
| it nd be a blessed releaser'
| Alicia Penrith smOte her hands to-
gether The tears started to her eyes
But why do you not send for a
doctor, Mrs. Qrince?" she cried. 1T
is wrong-wicked-to let her sink
my DEAR" put in Mrs. Ounce, i'm
pressively, doctors in this world
can't do her no good; she knows that.
Mr.. Merryweather knows 1t; we all
know it. bless you. She has been dy-
| ing of a broken heart for the last
| tweny years, as you may say, and
the only wonder is that she has lasted
so long as she has done. The other
night, you see, the sight O. you in that
room was too much for her, my child.
In some way, l take it, you reminded
her of your poor dead father, Sir
Ruy, and-and-''
The housekeeper paused, and looked
| troubledly at Alicia Penrith.
oil hn oi,.
| averted.
And" went Oh Mrs. Ounce, feel
ing much bewildered. ''you must, I
think, Miss Penrith, in some strange
way or another, have also reminded
her ladyship of-of Alicia Leigh. Did
! ever you hear tell of Alicia Leigh, my
dear?"
yes" softly answered the girl.
"Sir Ruy. my father, called me after
Alicia Leigh"
Il was struck myself the other
night" said Mrs. Quince, meditatively
"with-with a queer sort of likeness
which l seemed to see in you, Miss
Penrith, to that other whose name
you bear. Your hair is dark and soft
like hers was, and so are your eyes.
But of course it is all fancy-all Il
pack O. nonsense" added this priv
LEGGED old domestic, rubbing her
wrinkled forehead under her big
white cap-frills. "You never even
saw Alicia Leigh-how could you?"
Alicia Penrith was very pale.
There was a strange, wistful shadow
in those tragic. sorrowful eyes of
hers
How could I? You are right" she
said, quickly, her hand still turned
aside. "Alicia Leigh was dead before
I was born. At least II heard So"
That's gospel truth, my DEAR" re-
turned the housekeeper, i'll at ease.
And then she changed the subject,
and spoke of Herman MerryWea Their.
Hes a good 'un,' quoth Mrs. Ounce,
the affectionate tears standing in her
| eyes" that he is. The way he looks
arter the old house and all belonging
| to it. why, it's something wonderful.
He's like son to the poor old lady
! upstairs, as anybody in Garth 'ud
! tell you. What would she have done
without him and his father before
him-there, Heaven only knows"
Late in the afternoon, as it hap
| pened, Herman himself came to Old
friars. Having heard in the village
| that her ladyship was ailing more
than usual, he had called to make in
quiries, he said Alicia went to him,
| ~, ho ell
Unlocking place, with two narrow
windows-the crest of the Penriths
! being blazoned on the upper Panes-
opening out upon the neglected gar
| deus. Il was the only downstairs
apartment ever used now by Lady
| Penrith.
MerryWeather was unusually quiet
at 1rst--Alicia nervous aud shy. He
inquired very gently after the health
Of her ladyship, and the girl, with
dropping eyes and quivering voice
told him what Mrs. Ounce had said
in the morning. Herman looked
grave.
Alas, if he did but know it was
who had wrought the mischief she
thought, with a passionate longing Il
her aching heart to tell him then ant
there the secret of her life-"if he die
but knoW-if he did but know all
would he ever speak to me again,
WOnder-ever let me touch again thu
strong, true hand, notwithstanding
that noble promise of his to stand b.
the Penriths to the last. He is 81
good, so brave, so honorable-and We
he is my grandmothers friend. s.
=, that he
Are you not charmed with the an
tiquity of Oldfriars?' spoke Herman
presently, anxious to Danish tn
shadows from the beautiful youn
face, so young and yet so thoughtful
DO you know, whenever L am her
III invariably find myself hummin
that capital song about The monk
of old?' Do you know it? No! Wei
/ I dare say not. l used to near m
; father sing it when I was a lad. Blu
IA then l was given to understand tina
1 the monks of Oldfriars were very pr
|, culiar men, entirely sans reproche-
U | that feasting and carousing Wer
Vi things unknown in the monastery
e that the poor in Garth were daily r.
. membered. By some chance or otht
Il an old abbot lies buried in Cart
= church-yard, and the tombstone bedl
l. the quaint inscription: God bless tt
monk of Oldfriars' You shall see
= for, vo1rSnIf Miss Penrith when yC