Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-04-17

were inventories of the Broxton plate
and jewels that Tom ought to have.
My, but what a lot of it there was!
THE title deed to Broxton Hall,
made out, I suppose, by that old Eng
lishman who built the Hall and opened
up the place! But''-she had unfolded
a single small sheet of paper, yellow
with age, covered with writing in the
small, cramped letters in G in the
days of her remote ancestors-"what
on earth?"
Pushing all the other papers aside,
she spread this one Immediately I'M
der the lamp and, with both elbows
planted on the table, concentrated
every faculty Of her brain upon it.
Finally, with a deep sigh of relaxed
attention, she leaned back in her chair.
This, then, is what poor mother
meant when she said that Broxton
Hall could not be sold; that she was
going to put Tom in the way of get
ting it back. Why, Mr.. Westover's title
Is not worth a shoe button. l see-I
see it all now. She kept her secret
from me for fear I would carry the
papers straight to Mr.. Matthews,
which is just what I should do now,
only /,
A sudden knock on her front door
brought her to her feet with a start.
She. opened the big family Bible on
the table and swept the papers into it
for concealment. at was nobody but
Mrs. Deb and Lefty come back in
spite of her" She opened the door
with an unwelcoming smile.
Clarence Westover stood outside.
Her first thought was of the lawyer.
"Why, Mr.. Clarence, is he gone"
II have come to take Olivia home"
BOLIVIA! Why, she isn't here"
"Not here? Then where?'
He stepped inside with the words.
He was a young nan who cordially
resented being taken unawares.
"Oh, it is all right. I presume she
went home by the lane, and I missed
her by coming around the long way.
I suppose she has shut herself up in
her own room. The old man still re-
fuses to admit her to his room, and
1t made her restless. Reuben said she
told him she was going to bring you
some flowers. 1 am awfully sorry for
you, Miss Malvina."
"Thank you. Mother was full Of
years, and she was ready to co.
eyes, exactly-perfect Christian and
all that sort of thing, I suppose"
II am sorry you were not watchful
enough to keep her from annoying Mr..
Matthews the other night. I'm dread
fully sorry, as much on Ollie's account
as anybody else's."
well, you see, it was this way: Ev-
|erything was so peaceful and quiet the
first part of the night that 1 fell into a
sound sleep. When I walked up, the
first words I caught made me hesitate
to go in. l was afraid of making mat
tiers worse and supposed she would 20
away without any harm coming Of it.
/ was afraid Of adding to Mr.. Mat
thcws' excitement by revealing my
presence at that hour Of the night.
Things were considerably mixed up,
you see."
Eyes, dreadfully mixed up. I know
it."
He added an incongruous feature to
Miss Malvina's decorous little sitting
room with his high bred face and fash
ionable garb. AS long as Olivia was
not there to be fetched home he had
better be going. He offered some more
ready made condolences and turned to-
ward the door. Ma;vina stopped him
with a pleading look.
Don't go vet, please, Mr.. Clarence.
1t looks as if Providence had sent you
here on purpose tonight. 1 have a ia
vor to ask of you"
Certainly, anything I can do" he
said, politely enough, but he looked a
tfife bored. He was not devoid Of
kindly feelings. but really the queer
old party who had just shuf1ed off this
mortal coil and the unbeautiful spin
ster upon whom he had intruded in
search of Olivia" had never, appealed
very strongly to the aesthetic side Of
him.
Miss Malvina stood with her hands
resting reyerently on the big Bible. He
hoped she was not going to ask him to
read a portion Of Scripture with her.
That would be too much for his nerves
AS If direct contact with the book had
brought strength to her, Miss Malvina
suddenly lost all that timid ervous-
ness which possessed her whenever
she came in contact with this elegant,
rather naughty young fellow, who
made her 'feel like a milkmaid for
clumsiness." This man as Olivia's affi-
anced husband and the owner of Brox-
ton Hall had a much better right than
she had to know about that particular
paper. She entered abruptly upon the
task she had set herself.
g .don't know that you ever heard of
it. Mr.. Clarence, but my poor mother
had a mania"
Spare yourself, Miss Spillman. I
heard every word she said to MI. Mat
thews last night"
"About-about-some papers and
thingsY
Eyes, poor old lady! She was really
unsparing, dreadfully caustic. But of
course it went for nothing. We all