The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1902-07-16
CHAPTER V.
Continued.

Continued.
"Oh. Annie Is q few months younger
than !. When she was about fourteen
her father apprenticed her in one Of
the big drapery establishments in the
West End Of London, but We don't
know which. She didn't 60 to New
Zealand with her father. Further than
that we know nothing about her"
Then am not ouryoungest aunt?'
81 don't know. am sure" was my
reply.
II am twenty-six." confessed aunt
Gertrude.
Then, II Annie 10 living, / have an
aunt nearly seven years younger. AS
1 said. she II younger than by few
months"
Aunt Gsrtrude sighed. turned some
what abruptly from the picture. and
walked through the open window on
to the verandah.
The view from our verandah Is prob
ably as good as from any point In suf.
folk distant from the coast Accept.
ing as truth q popular fallacy some
will think this is faint praise, but
those acquainted with the county VIII
hardly 20 regard It No part Of Eng
land II less esteemed by English peo-'
ple than the eastern counties, but this.
IKE many other Of our national preJ:-
dices, does not admit Of any explana.
tion. The absurd fact remains. A
rolling country. highly cultivated here,
and there, Interpreted with abund-
ence Of wild open spaces and woods
which shelter immense quantities OF
xame, with q rainfall the most moder-
ate in Britain, would, II might well be
supposed. attract many visitors-espe-
eially from London, but It il not 90.
and East Anglia is left very much to
East Anglians, particularly in that
part Of Il called Suffolk.
The weather was delightful. the clear
blue sky being streaked here and there
with slowly moving white clouds, the
temperature mid and refreshing, the
sunshine brilliant-a spring morning
fraught wfthSeyssy condition to pro-
mote heailA Ap6 6.buoyancy Of spirit.
Aunt GerktaA SAaded her eyes with
her hand, andSAoked out toward the
old abbey town. Bury Ct Edmund'R
eight miles distant. could be family
dlscerned. separated from us BY fine
stretch Of undulating country.
How delightfully green everything
n In Englandr' exclaimed my aunt
enthusiastically.
Particularly the people," observed
o voice at our back.
The voice belonged to uncle Sam.
Turning round we saw that gentleman
5ast within the foom. standing In o
jaunty attitude: his hands In his pock.
ets. chewing the end Of an unligkted
cigar. Ny,fssAsr was with him and
had q pair dfId slasses in his hand.
This unexpected interruption ap-
peared to annoy my aunt "You are
not very complimentary to your own
people," she said, slightly tossing her
delicately poised head.
Her husband perceived her mood.
"An right, my dear" he said. in his
most afYable manner, as he stepped on
to the verandah. u forgot for the mo-
ment that some Americans are more
English than the English themselves.
Just let me look at the boundary line
OF this place and am gone" 80 gay
ing he took the field. glasses from my
father, who remained within, and sur.
veyed the prospect for couple Of min.
utes. Having completed his observa.
ton he made no further remark, but
re-entered the room and disappeared
with his brother.
Il was not long before my aunt and
I followed. We went through q num-
Der OF rooms. some Of them named AZ
ter distinguished guests who had oc-
cupIed them long ago-Camden. Swift.
Addison, Butler. Purcell and others Of
less note-she lady evincing greater in
terest b the quaint furniture than in
the historical associations to which ]
endeavored to direct her attention.
In this way did amuse my aunt for
three hours. conducting her at last
through the clean, dry stone crypt,
which formed the basement Of the
house. This crypt was very ancient,
being the only unaltered portion of
the old abbey which supplied the site,
and In part the material, for Holden.
hurst Hall. The stonework Of the spa.
:.:Sus arches seemed quite uninjured
BY time; and. though they contained
much lumber. there still r. y. lined am
Die room for procession y. monks to
pass through them. Aunt Gertrude
was much interested, and constantly
piled me with questions about the bab-
its OF the original ecclesiastical occu-
pants as ] preceded her through this
strange place, lantern in hand.
"Why il that last arch bricsed upT'
she inquired.
Hooked at the object OF her inquiry.
"I haven't the renotest idea. ] never
noticed II before. 1t is rarely anybody
comes down here" ] said.
II was now time to prepare for lunch.
con. md We ascended the steps
which led into the house. In the hall
we again met my father and uncle.
"Well," asked uncle Sam. address.
ing his wife. what do you think OF
the old placer"
every interesting. indeed. have
enjoyed myself immensely"
II am glad to hear it." said my faith
er. "You must be very tired Lunch
con will be served In q few minutes