Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1896-11-26

her sister said blushipg brightly.
But Overleigh laughed at tn
idea, and shouldered the poor littl
creature crusches and all. to his in
tense satisfaction end Gladys
amusement. -
So they wandered On along th,
leafy lanes, Overleigh making al
occasional inquiry about the place
they we're passing, and Gladys ans
wering in monosyllabIes, until theil
ways separated. Thep, placing the
child on the ground and thanking
Gladys profusely for her kindness
he lifted his hat. ans xalked Of
down the road whistling an air from
"Trovatore.'
This was but the beginning. As
the days passed on, it became quite
a matter of course for Ovsrleigh to
meet the two sisters in his daily
walk, and stroll along the beach
with them telling wonderful stor-
les about the ships to Nab, and
now and then winning one of
Gladys charming smiles.
One time, after speaking Of his
busy life in London, he asked:
Miss Gladys, have you always
lived in that picturesque cottage
on the hill p
i will tell you all that can re-
member Mr. Overleigh. bat it isn't
much. Would you care to hear
it:'
Overleigh's answer was .n eager
assent, 80 Gladys com menced.
L was born several miles from
here. in a gloomy house called the
Towers My father was very fond
Of travelling, aud would 70 off for
months at a time, leaving my
mother and me in the great, lonely
house with the servants. One
night | rememb Der it so well, / was
about eight years old then. and
Nab was a baby, / was sitting in
my little chair beside of mother,
watching the flames leap brightly
up the chimney, and singing softly
to myself as children do, when the
door bell rang violently, and the
maid brought telegram IN to my
mother. 1t said that my father
was dead he had been instantly
killed in the terrible railroad disas.
ter Of 1S-.
i have an indistinct ren.mber.
ance of being taken avay that night
in carriage, and the next morn
ing | aW"<e in the cottage on the
Eli, with my old nurse bending
over me. never saw my dear
mother again.
They told me that she was con-
stantly i'll. but when l became old
er | learned the truth. She was
insane. Insanity had run in her
family for generations
Gladys voice grew low and trem-
ulous. but she kept on.
NAB has known no other home
but our present one, and here we
passed the long days playing to-
gether, until she had the terrible
fall which made her sick so long,
then Gladys laid her hand lightly
on her sisters head, sand made me,
oh, Old
When Gladys ceased speaking
they walked on in silence. Then
OverleIgh, looking at his watch,
said it was time for him to turn
back.
Lifting the little girl in his arms,
he kissed her gently, and turning
to Gladys said /:
i can appreciate your feelings,
Gladys. although I cannot find
words strong enough to express my
sympathy for you.'
But the eloquent light in his
eyes satisfied Gladys.
These merry mornings which the
three spent together. were golden
hours snatched from the long mo.
notonous days. Gladys used to
watch for the manly figure in the
brown tweed suit and hunting cap,
and Nab would clap her hand:
when she saw him coming and limr
painfully to meet him.
Sometimes Overleigh would find
GLADYS alone, when Nab would bs
too i'll to join them, and then those
long, delightful rambles along the
fiowery lanes, would fill their youth.
full hearts with gladness, aud draw
them nearer to each other, ant
apart from the struggling worlt
around them.