The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1900-04-13
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1icture Gallery

....'Y...''V'....V':...
"Tell me the story Of the picture, Mrs.
Wynford, please?"
swell, you see, Miss Thurlow was a
great belle and had so many rich and
noted men after her, and Master Walter
was only third son, with two healthy
brothers, so it is scarce to be wondered
at that her father refused with scorn
when the poor young curate Of ST. An
selm's made bold to ask him for the hand
of his only daughter in marriage. In
vain Miss Marion wept and pleaded and
said that she could never love another.
The old man was memorable, swore loud
ly and sent Miss Marion to her room,
while as to Master Walter lie drove him
from the house, telling him never to dare
enter it again and then went back to his
pipe and Spectator in cool disregard of
the two young hearts he had SO well nigh
broken.
"My mother was young woman at
that time. and she lived to reach her
more than threescore years and ten, but
she often said that she could never forget
the face Of the curate as he walked into
the library ON the evening after he had
been at the Hall. All the glad light SEEM
ed to have faded from his usually bright
blue eyes, and he moved and spoke as one
in dream.
"About eight months after that there
the bride was the beautiful daughter Of
Sir Spencer Thurow of the Hall. But, in
spite Of the grandeur of the nuptials-
bright flowers, sweet music, ETC., to say
nothing Of the magnificent rent roll Of the
background was well known that her
heart was not In it. "A match forced by
her father to save her from forming an
alliance with some poor country curate
with no expectations was whispered by
the great people that thronged to the
marriage feast. What lucky escape!
"And Master Walter-you ask how he
bore it?
! "Ah, as few men would or could! He
buried the great sorrow Of his life deep,
deep down, and spent his days in going
about doing good. Well, the years few
by; from time to time whispers were
heard that Miss Thurlow had not done
quite so well after all, and that Mr..
Leonard, her husband, treated his young
wife shamefully, and there was rumor
that he had lost largely in speculation,
and soon after report that he had died,
leaving absolutely nothing. So much for
forced marriage!
"Sir Spencer started to find his daugh-
Ter and fetch her home as soon as he
heard Of the death of his sonin-aw. But
| travelling was slow in those days, and
when he reached the humble little cot
tage where she had spent the last months
of her married life he found the heavy
wooden shutters fast barred and Il look
Of utter desolation about the whole place.
To all his queries the only answer was
that after the gentleman died the lady
and her maid had gone off suddenly, but
where nobody seemed to know. The old
man employed detectives, spent money,
etc, but all to no avail; and at length,
disheartened, he returned home, and be-
fore another year was over the grass was
growing upon his grave and Thurlow
Hall went into the hands of Il distant
cousin.
"About this time I think 1t was that
! Master Guy, who was at that time the
squire, went for cruise in his yacht on
the Mediterranean, accompanied Ivy his
next brother, Wilfred; that is more than
80 years ago, but never to this day has
word been heard of crew or vessel. So
after months Of anxious waiting the Gu
rate of ST. Anselms took his place as
squire Of Kcithleigh Abbey.
"One winter evening, after he had been
squire for some time, he was sitting in
his study, trying to fix his mind on SER
mon for the coming Sunday, when a
mans voice, sharp and discordant, broke
! in upon the stiffness.
"'There, you young cub take that! A
bird that can sing and won't must be
| made to sing! Pipe up and give 'em "Ye
spite Of all his gcntleness, was no cow
, ard When he heard cry, he whisted
to Rex, the great bloodhound, and ran
quickly to the door. The ground was COW
cred with snow, and in the moonlight he
saw very plainly two figures, the one a
rough looking man, the other a thinly
clad boy of some or 10 years, carrying
a violin. At Rcx's deep growls the man
took to his heels and fed, but the child,
| too exhausted to move, sank down help
less mass on the snow. The squire lifted
him up and carried him tenderly into the
| warm, cheerful study. 1t was many
long day since child had been in the old
Abbey, and it caused great excitement,
even though this one was only little un-
known strolling violin player. Servants
hurried here and there with hot blankets,
mulled wine, etc. Truly there was some
thing almost pathetic in the small, pale
face, with its black eyelashes and curly,
dark hair. Those who stood by never
forgot how the tears came into the
squires eyes when he saw the deep welts
that cruelty and hard usage had made on
the tender flesh of the boy. One little
arm was marked with the letter C.
which made all wonder, and old Thomas,
the butler, whispered to Margaret, the
cook: Mark my words, there's some mys-
terry about the lad. He doesn't look bit
like an Italian fiddler
Ellis name was Carlo. He did not
know how old be was. Marco had never
told him that
"The master, the man for whom he
played the violin and by whom he was
beaten In return, not his father?
"Oh, no; he could not remember his IA
ther at all.
"Where was his mother?
"He didn't know. Sometimes when he
was asleep lie dreamed that sweet face
smiled upon him and soft hand tenderly
smoothed back the curls from his brow.