The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1899-07-28

Martineau, in a low tone. Ibid you
say you never saw your uncle's,
guestsH
"Wait a minute; am going to tell
you," she replied. when l was be-
tween sixteen and seventeen change
came about in my world. The old
schoolmaster died. There was a pause
in the regular routine of my days. Lett
entirely to my own devices, I used TO
wander all over the upper parts OF the
| house. In one of the attics l found
box full of books. Some were dull anu
uninteresting, but some werewolf,
do not think you can have any ldea
of what 1t was to me to become ac-
quainted with Sir Walter Scott, ThacK,
cray and Lord Lytton. My brain al
most reeled with an accumulation OF
new ideas. 1 wondered how IN the
world l could have remained Where
was so long in helpless, stupid iRuoF-
ance of life. l soon resolved tnat
would bear it no longer. l would
brave my uncle; l would demand my
freedom; l would ask why l was
mewed up thus in corner, away from
all companionship.
II remember that night wildly. IL
was August, sultry and still, and Dotn
atmosphere and sky were beautifully
clear I had spent the afternoon I'M
der the willows by the brook, gloat-
ing over my novel till the fading light
compelled me to close the book. The
pastures, as l walked lingeringly back
| to the house, were heavy with dew,
and discolored the hem Of my white
| cotton dress. / must have been
strange looking girl; my hair fioated
all over my shoulders and down my
| back below my waist; nobody mad
ever told me that 1 was growing up,
and that my locks should be arranged
more neatly. 1 came with slow steps
round the corner of the house, brushing
my hand softly along the thick dark
box trees; my lightly-shod feet MADE
no noise on the gravel as l turned
the corner of the clump of thick bushes
which stood at each side OF the en-
trance, and advanced toward the heavy
white columns Of the porch.
"Then 1 started back and paused
irresolutely, for there was stranger
standing by the door a young man
with bare head and folded arms. |
beg your pardon, Mr.. Martineau, did
I startle your"
"Not in the least, thanks. You-you
can't think how you interest me.
Please don't pause"
at seems a strange thing that up to
that night I had never encountered
any Of my uncle's guests, but 1t Is
nevertheless quite true. AS he turned
and caught sight of me, he uttered an
exclamation of surprise.
"'You startled me-, he said.
"'You startled me, too, answered
vaguely, as looked at him, there came
floating into my mind "reminiscences
of the romances with which l had late
ly filled my head. thought of the first
meeting between Ivanhoe and Rebecc0
as 1 looked up at him. He took my
hand, drew me to his side, and patted
my hair kindly.
"'Whose dear little girl are you?
he said.
81 felt cruelty wounded and hurt!
There was every excuse for him-you
see how small am. no taller than q
child, my hair was all down my back,
and the light was fading! But never
thought Of that. Picture to yourself
a girl, with a mind just awakened to
a consciousness of womanhood and its
possibilities, brought face to face with
the first young man she had ever met
and greeted as was greeted then! He
must have thought me mad. burst
into indignant tears, and tore myself
away from him.
"'How dare you-oh, how dare you
speak to me like that?" l cried. i
can't think how you can insult me So!
"I think he saw then that he had
made a mistake, for he said, BY
George, beg your pardon! But ]
would not stay another moment. 1 ran
upstairs to my own room. There ]
cried as II my heart would break.
had deeply realized how neglected
was, and there was no one to help me
to gain redress!"
Ito be continued.)