The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1897-06-04
FROM THE GRAVE.
BY ANNA SHIELDS.

made me a poor man and a lonely one,
though, L humbly trust, not useless
one.
Nearly 25 years ago | settled in
Gresham, village then, and taking its
name from the founder, who was also
my uncle, Peter Gresham. He had
written To me, when l graduated from
the medical college, where he had paid
all my expenses as a student, that he
would give me a cottage in the viilag.
and $500 IN money, but after that must
make my OVID way.
The offer was generous continu-
ance of kindness shown To ME from boy
hood, when / WAS left an orphan and
penniless. L gladly accepted il, and
went at once To Gresham, where nv
only rival was a practitioner nearly SO
Years old, DIR. Farnell, who occupied
cottage directly opposite to mine.
Being in easy circumstances and very
feeble, DIR. Farnel was more than will
ing To send me patients, until, gradual
ly, found he had transferred the whole
practice of tire village to my care.
He took from the first a friendly in
terest in my welfare, and gave me much
useful advice and in Information, his long
experience rendering all he impaired
of great value to young physician.
Scarcely an evening passed but found
me at his cottage TO discuss the cases
of the day, in each and all of which he
took keen professional interest
But, before | had been year in
Gresham, L found my professional talks
formed but a secondary interest in
my visits to DIR. Farnell's cottage
When these were over, and the aged
doctor dozed III his chair, or nodded
over u book, Leonie Farnell, his grand
daughter and housekeeper, would touch
the piano keys To accompany her sweet,
clear voice in my favorite songs, or
would talk tn me in her womanly way
of the patients, who were all friends
of her own, many of them her pension
ers. Let me try, looking through the
clouds that rolled soon between US, to
picture Leonie Farnell as she was ia
that first year of my love for her. Nv
love, | say, for it sprang into nv heart
strong and undying the first time her
SOFT brown eyes met mine in shy greet
ing.
She was pretty, but no wonder of
beauty, her great charm lying in her
grace Of movements, her low, sweet
voice and a gentle, refined modesty.
She had been carefully educated, but
had no brilliant accomplishments, un-
less a gift of making home an altogeth-
er charming place may rank in that cat
egory. Orphaned in infancy, she had
been the darling of her grandfathers
heart, but, dearly as he loved her. he
was never averse to my suit. He read
my hearts secret even before l guessed
its depth, and in his quiet way favored
the friendship between Leonie and my
self.
\ year, the one bright year in my
solitary life, passed away, and L pr,--
pared to speak to Deonie of my love.
i had waited until L felt secure of my
position at Gresham, and l hoped tu
waken some warmer token of love on
Leonie's part. For even then l guessed
dimly, what / know, and soon knew Ger
tainly, that l had won only calm, sis
terly affection in return for the absorb
ing devotion of my heart.
L have said nothing yet of my inter
course with my Uncle Gresham. the
gI-andee of the little village. whose
large, handsome house was the center
income was supposed To be something
of almost fabulous extent, and really
was that of a very wealthy man.
During that first bright year of NV
life in the village he had started, my
intercourse with my uncle was as pleas
ant as all other parts of my life, and
1 was a frequent and welcome visitor
at his house
But in one brief sentence i may re-
cord the event that wrought a change
in all-my love, my friendships, my
welcome at Gresham Place. Ny cousin.
Sidney, Uncle GreshaLn's only child,
came home from Europe, where he had
been travelling for five years
From that time l marked a change
in my reception at the house, where
i had been assured of most cordial wei
come, and my visits soon became those
eXacted by my gratitude only 1t hurt
me cruelty to see that my uncle's affec-
ton was being won from me, but there
Was far more bitter cup soon to be
placed at my reluctant lips.
Sidney came to DIR. Farnelrs as a
guest sure of a welcome, to renew a
friendship only interrupted since boy
hood by his travels. And the first time
| saw him with Leonie L knew why my
love had failed To meet its return. \
childish friendship had grown by that
long separation into life love The
eyes that had ever met mine with tlle
frankness of friendship drooped shyly
beneath Sidney's gaze. while the cheek
that had never changed color for me.
flushed at his coming, even before he
spoke.
Yet / would not quite despair until
meeting them together, on hazy June
evening, walking slowly, as lovers walk
1 heard a soft, signing voice whisper:
Il have always loved you, Sidney"
In their happiness they never guessed
my presence, and | shrank back behind
a friendly tree till they passed me by.
and were lost to my sight
Then / threw myself into my profess
sional duties, trying so to feedmy starv-
ing heart, studying diligently, and Civ
ing every case in my care ardent inter
est. DIR. Farnell guessed all my misery,
and, when | came more and more sell
dom to his cottage, he crossed the road
frequently to visit me. Once only he
spoke. Il am sorry Leone loves sgd
ney." he said. after telling me of their
engagement, for he is a man / never
liked nor trusted. But woman's heart
l. wayward and must follow its own
will. There is no reason-not one--to
set against her love, 50 l must bear INV
disappointment as best l may
And knew my kind old friend meant
that he had hoped my love would win
Deonie's heart.
While August WAS burning up the
vegetation with a long drought, we had