Decorah public opinion. (Decorah, Winneshiek County [Iowa]) 1895-1928, 1899-12-13

ing affection established between Walter
Keith, master of Keithleigh Abbey, and
Carlo the waif.
six years after and Master Carlo was
as bonnie lad as you'd find Of his age in
the United Kingdom. His love for the
squire had grown with his growth and
strengthened with his strength, and Mr..
Keith often used to wonder how he had
ever got along without him.
''In the year that became housekeeper
the squire caught heavy cold, which
settled on his lungs and for q long time
threatened to end fatally. so as soon as
he was able to stand it the doctor ordered
complete rest and change of scene; 80, &C.
companied by the lad. he started for
Italy.
Zone day while at Rome. after leaving
the Vatican. he was stopped in the street
by a neatly dressed woman. who in face
and manner of speech was decidedly
Scotch. My mistress is dying, my puir.
bonnie Teddy, and wad We ma come and
say wee bit prayer after she gaes" she
asked, with tears in her eyes.
''Mr. Keith turned on the spot, never
inquiring what the disease (which proved
to be the fatal Roman fever) was, and
hurried along by the woman's side.
Had her mistress been i'll long?
mot in this great danger, but she had
been ailing about nine years, ever since
little Carlo, her only BARN. was acciden-
tally drowned.
WAS she widow?
"Yes; her husband died about three
months before the CT lid was born, leav-
ing her without a penny. She was by
birth an English woman and has written
again and again to her father, rich bar
onet, for help. but has never received any
answer.
did they ever find the body of the
boy?
mo. but they had positive proof Of his
death, for, said the woman, 'one morn
ing while l was fixing my leddy's hair
the wee bit daddy was playing in the gar
den. and after, when went to fetch him
in, couldna find the BARN, but what
did hnd was his tiny cap floating upon
the Tiber. On that day my puir mis-
tress' heart broke, and she has never
been the same woman since. Here we
are at the house now! Will ye come in :?
] don't much think she will understand
ye-she's too far gone for that-but
ween she'd be fain to ken that one Of her
ain kirk was with her at her last hour
with these words she led him up
winding stairway into a small. meanly
furnished room. closely followed. though
unperceived, by the boy Carlo. On the
bed the form Of a woman was lying. Her
face. which, in spite of its paLor. still
had some claim to beauty. was scarcely
less white than the pillow itself.
"'Ah" she said in a voice so weak and
low as to be hardly heard. 4 have had
such sweet, sweet dream, Janet. /
dreamed that was back in England,
dear old England once more! 1t was
vesper time on a Sunday afternoon, and
! heard this old hymn that we loved
so well. he and |. abide With Me-"
and he was by my side. and little
Cyril. bright and beautiful, raised his
sweet, clear voice at the last verse. and
then | awakened. But, Janet. listen well
to what ! say. Something tells me that
my hoy was not drowned. as we so long
supposed. have thought not for some
time past, and now l feel sure of it.
You'll know him, Janet'-here her voice
rose full and clearly the letter &c" in
old English on his left ARM Here she
paused. but Walter Keith gave deep
cry and sank on his knees by the bedside,
while Carlo, with wondering eyes. crept
softly up and knelt beside him.
Sing. my boy; sing the last verse Of
that hymn of which she has just spoken
said the squire in an agitated tone. And
then rose the voice of the lad in it's clear
treble:
:" Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the
skies.
Heavens morning breaks. and earth's vain shad-
ows fee;
In life. in death, o Lord. abide with me-
"Then the voices ceased and
"'Cyril. little Cyril the dying woman
murmured in a tone Of such content, but
80 very faint. and the dampness was fast
coming DER her brow. So the squire
quickly began the 'Commendatory Pray
err, but scarcely had he done so when
for the first time since they entered the
room she opened her eyes, and soon after,
with a smile of ineffable love, exclaimed,
Walter. o my belovedp in voice that
rang clear and strong and then died away
in the deep. deep silence of death. For
long time the squire knelt by the body of
the only woman he had ever loved, with
the small brown hand of her son held
tightly in his. You have heard the rest.
my lady, how he caught the fever and
how on one lovely autumn day the body
of the good squire was brought back to
Keithleigh, accompanied by the heart
broken little Sir Cyril Leonard. They
buried him in the old churchyard Of st.
Anselm's and raised above his grave a
cross of purest marble, with naught carv-
ed on il save Walter Keith, Priest.
Eighteen hundred and thirty Re-
quiescat in Pace Nothing more. but he
who had taken the tired SOU to it's rest
knew just how well the burden and heat
Of the day had been borne"
Here Mrs. Wynford finished her story,
but Muriel. who had been intently listen
Ing. asked quickly. "And what became Of
the boy?"
"Oh. Leonard. dear, Mrs. Wynford has
been telling me such a story of"-here
she pointed to the portrait-'and how
kind he was to poor little waif. who
afterward turned out to be the son Of
the woman whom he had wished to
marry. You have heard the tale before
now. Leonard. but can you tell me aught
of the boy. Sir CyrilY'
"Why. yes: Muriel. my darling. the lad
became a man. and one of the first things
that he did was to buy the old Abbey and
to add the name Of Keith to his own
family name. But II you wish for proof
of the truth OF her story. mine own sweet
wife. look here" With these words be
drew up his left sleeve and showed her
the letter &c" in ancient English script.
plainly visible on the stalwart ARM