The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1902-09-17

to preach IN Johnson's barn near The
watermill."
Haven't these changes been made
very quicklyr
Indeed. they have; but you are not
acquainted with half Of them yet. Yes
terday q celebrated arborculturist from
Kew was here and went over the es-
tate, marking trees which.he considers
too old either for use or ornament;
they are to come down and more than
two thousand new trees are to De
planted. I am told that your uncle
had to pay fee Of f2a for his ser
vices"
shall We dine now?" l asked, alb
ruptly changing the subject, though
never felt less inclined to eat In my
life. What / had seen and heard made
me feel sick at heart. and I would have
welcomed almost anything to divert
my mind, perple1ed as 1t was and
wearied with strong and varying emo
tons.
"Of course; you have had a long
Journey" said my father. looking at
his watch. 1T Is not yet seven o'clock,
but I viii order something to be served
ut once"
A small room which overlooked the
garden had not as yet been interfered
with, and there we sat down to
hastily improvised dinner. Old John
waited Mt table as usual. but made
one or two awkward blunders. and
semeed SO strange in his manners
that took the first opportunity that
presented itself Of remarking upon
it
You see, he is over sixty" urged
his employer. land We must not expect
much from him now. The alterations
going on here. and the presence OF SO
many strangers, has 80 disorganized
him that he has been almost beside
himself for the last few days; on Fri
day I could scarcely make anything
Of him. When the workmen are gone
We must find the old man a cottage
and a small pension. He has lived
here since he was boy. and has been
a good and faithful servant"
That will be rather lonely for him.
won't It? Fancy old John Adams. bach.
elor and ex.butler, who never had q
thought that went beyond bis side.
board or the kitcbsn, living by himself
in a cottage"
1T will be 40 lonely for him as 1t
has been for me the week that my
boy was In London" agreed my good
natured father. and then reverted to
the case Of my unfortunate Aunt An
ME. listened to his opinions and con-
lectures with but feeble interest, max.
ing pretence OF so much interest as de.
cency required, while ! debated with
myself how / might best 60 down into
the crypt unobserved by my father or
the servants.
Very rarely was anybody out Of bed
mt Holdenhurst Hall Mt SO late IN
hour as eleven In the evening; and
therefore determined, II ] could only
screw my courage up to the necessary
pitch. to make q secret visit to the
crypt at midnight. With this purpose
In view I withdrew to my -oom ms
soon as possible, and having unpacked
my bag wrote to Miss Marsh; but !
was so unsettled and unnerved that
made three rough drafts Of short
letter before / could express myself
to my satisfaction. That task accom-
plished. ! went into the garden, and
thence wandered to the stables to fetch
q lantern which hung behind one Of
the doors there-a ponderous structure
Of glass and metal, encasiDg an oil
lamp, the whole depending on q huge
ring; such a lantern as the watchmen
Of London carried In the time Of the
Georges. Having assured myself that
1t was provided with oil and wick.
I conveyed 1t to my room. and then
returned to my father, who at once
resumed the discussion Of which !
was SO heartily weary. As with most
matters which are much discussed. no
decision was reached; and when at
ten o'clock we separated for the night,
l retired to my room In strange con-
dition Of unrest. q prey to diversified
emotions, Hope and Fear struggling
for the mastery.
To be continued.