The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1901-01-11
BY THU LYCH GATE
A Story of One Who Married For
Wealth and Beauty.
.o.o.A.a.a.ae.e.o.o.c.

g Wealth and Beauty. @
G..o.o.S.S.G.Go.o.o.c.c.G.
There is n valley amid the York
shire hills known as Coverdale, from
whose slopes, long years ago, came
pious Miles, who translated the Bible,
and who was called by the simple folk
Miles of Coverdale, after the place of
his birth.
Very calm and peaceful the little dale
lies under the shadow of the great
sweet summertide with their royal
mantle of fragrant heather, and where
the curlew and the golden plover's
cry alone break the gentle stiffness
that rests over the little world beyond
the haunts of restless activity and bur-
rying life.
There Is no railway in quiet Cover
dale. no town to which the country
folk may wend their way, no shops save
the wonderful village emporium, where
everything in n very small way may be
obtained, but where few fashions come
to startle the gayer minded of the
maidens, or strange new devices in
neckties to dazzle the vision of the
country lads.
To peep into the world necessitates a
journey under the shelter of the lone
hillsides, along bonny lanes, intwined
with pink and creamy tinted honey
suckle, and green with waving ferns;
OF tho nuoint inn Trhncn CT 10 n
famous but long ago race horse, called
in the canny Yorkshire tongue the
Lady Bah, and, finally, across the moor
into horse loving Middleham, where
are people and shops, and many inns
with curiously painted signposts-the
Black Swan and it's brother, the White
Swan, and many others too.
But down in Coverdale there is q
beautiful old church, set like a jewel
In its surrounding of stately trees and
poisoning hedges, with the quiet
greenness of Gods acre lying stretched
about it, and the singing of natures
choristers In the sweet air around-a
earths burdens may fall from one for
little space and heavens benson light
softly on such of its children as stay to
pray and think awhile.
There is a quaint lych gate at the en-
trance to the holy spot, carved halt
ing place of oak, set tenderly by some
good man of the dalespeople-a squire
of the olden days, who loved his home
and his neighbors and his God full
well, l think, and sought to beautify
the church In which he and his had
worshiped so long.
And down the fair avenue of trees
within the precincts and past the quiet
church lie the remains Of what was
once the proud abbey of Coverdale,
where the monks said masses and cul-
tivated their garden and tended the
souls and bodies of the poor and needy
In the dale.
1t is beautiful spot in beautiful
countryside, and so thought man
who viewed it lovingly and pointed out
all it's changeful lights and shadows
and all its pretty peeps Of field and
river to his wife.
They had only been married a little
while, few short weeks, and had
elected to spend their honeymoon In
some of the quaint corners of England;
hence their journeyfng thither to this
seouestered nook among the hills and
the far stretched moorlands in their
yelling of regal purple. The man loved
it already with the artist love which
sees the beautiful so quickly and feels
it so strongly. and the woman-well
she saw the beauties, too, but she was
growing little weary of pretty sights
and she was very pretty and spoiled her
self and perhaps a little jealous of adj
miration wasted which might have
been diverted homeward.
So she stood by the quaint relics OF
the abbots and mailed knights at Gov
erdale, where two quaint forms guard
q doorway as perchance their originals
guarded some stronghold in the old
fighting days long gone. and her white
gown fell over the gray stones and
cleaned against the red and orange
nasturtiums in the garden which sur
rounds the old walls and arches. and
she wondered If her husband had near
" finished his sketch and whether they
should stay at Middleham for day oil
two or go on farther to Wensleydale.
Tam rather tired of admiring places,
she said to herself little impatiently
"and. then, l never can remember who
lived in the castles and abbeys. How
uncomfortable they must have been"
H. rof.x
young bride, too-she felt sorry fol
having been impatient. even in hel
thoughts, toward her husband. and she
turned to speak to him with an ever
sweeter smile than usual on her pretty
lips, for her husband was n genius II
his way, a thinker and an author. ant
every one had envied her when sht
married him In spite of her wealth.
All, there was a pltiful ring In thu
story-poor and nameless, but clever
beating himself to pieces In his eagel
attempts to win fame single handed
| and rich and beautiful the woman will
the fairylike figure and exquisite face
who had given the man her gold.
And, ali, a more pitiful note still, ant
| the man remembers that some one ma:
once long ago talked of this very spot
with it's quaint surroundings and 1T
old world atmosphere, in the time that
might have been and is not.
He closed his sketchbook, with q
sigh, and turned to the white robed
loveliness of his wife with murmur'
ed apology for having kept her wait
ing, and then together they passed
down the avenue that leads to the road
again.
But he was very silent, and his wife
felt tired and just little cross. She
liked to be pettcd and coaxed and fiat
tered, and latterly Wilfred had beer
too serious to suit her gay fancies ant
too absorbed In new ideas for his bool
to pay her the attentions she loved 81
dearly to exact from every man and es
| pecially from her husband,