Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1896-08-20
CHAPTER III.

Ia Meeting at the Fniry's Haunt.
David Deacon was q lourishing
trader when he married Matthew Riy-
ers' sister.
His business was In the town of
Portsmouth, but at about the same
time that John Gridiey became his
brother-in-law's clerk. he found he had
made sufficient none to warrant him
in'retiring from business.
He took a house at no great distance
from the town where his money had
been made, and passed a happy, con-
tented life there. with his wife and two
children-Rose, II pretty girl, about
Mays age, and Harry, a boy yet at
school, with a strong determination to
become a sailor.
David Deacon's house was an old
fashioned place, standing in its own
grounds and commanding az extensive
sea view. 1t was not large enough or
grand enough to be called a mansion,
neither would any n have presumed
to call ii Il cottage; but 1t was comfort
able, and suited David Deacon, and
therefore it mattered little TO him Ky
what name it was designated.
1t was the last week in August when
May Rivers set out with her father one
glorious morning for AlvertOn.
1t was market day again, and the old
maltster drove his daughter into the
town where David Deacon was to meet
her and convey her to his home on the
long talked of, long looked forward 20,
visit.
As May rode with her father through
the green lane with the trees meeting
overhead and the bright III cleaning
between the leaves, throwing a check
cred light and shade upon the road,
her heart beat joyfully, and she could
have carolled in unison with the birds,
so happy did she feel.
OF course, there was a pang of re-
greet in leaving the house in which
every day of her life had hitherto been
passed; but then it was, after all, little
more than twenty miles she was going,
and the novelty and the anticipated
pleasure prevented any deep feeling of
regret from marring her happiness.
She was going to see the sea-she "a
going to make the acquaintance of a
cousin, of whom as yet she had only
heard-she was going to see new scenes
and different people to those to whom
she had been accustomed; and in her
happiness she laughed aloud for joy
n little. low, mellow, musical laugh,
like the ripping of a tiny stream.
Everything was 50 new, so strange to
her. Her world had been bounded by
the market town, to which she had been
once or twice, but now she was going
to a large, busy, bustling seaport.
1t was the first great episode in her
life; but could she have foreseen to
What that visit would lead, tue misery
that would eIsue from it, she would
have begged her father to turn the
horses head and take her back again
to Annadale, there to pass a dali, quiet,
u%neventful life.
But she was not gifted with the
power of foresight, and rode on by her
fathers side rs blithc and merry as a
bird. little dreaming Of that which
Fate had In store for her.
Alverton was reached; and there
were the red-faced, loud-voiced. CHEEKY
farmers, all with a hearty welcome for
Matthew Rivers. and a clumsy compli-
ment for his pretty daughter.
There were the younger mes, who
stroye for a look or a word from pretty
May Rivers: and there, too, was David
Deacon, with a neat, town-made
chaise, waiting to take charge of his
pretty niece and convey her to his
home.
He was a tall, iank, thin man, with
iron gray hair, and a stern to
strangers, but when he spoke to May
his voice was as kind as his words.
and she felt. at once, that If she did
not enjoy her visit, it would be no fault
of her uncle's.
There was not much time for CONVEX
sation In the street at Alverton, for
there was a long drive before the uncle
and his niece.
Matthew Rivers kissed his daughter,
and such of the young farmers who
knew her and were not too bashful,
shook hands with her. David Deacon
put her box into the chaise, and then
assisted her in, and then, with a flour
ish OF the whip, the vehicle rolled on
as May kissed her hand to her father,
and fairly started on her way towards
Portsmouth.
When Matthew Rivers reached home
that evening he felt worse both in
health and spirits than he had done for
many a long day.
Was ii that his business was not In
so ~fiourishing a state as he could have
wished?
Was it that he had some vague fore
boding of the future?
Or was 1t merely that he missed the
bright fairy like presence of his merry,
pretty daughter, swho had been accus-
toned to fit around him every even