Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909, 1902-01-28

CHAPTER /.

CHAPTER /.
Below, a great broad stretch of ocean,
calm as death, slumbering piacidlr be-
meath the suns hot rays; above, a sky of
palest azure, hecked here and there by
dainty masses of soft, heecy clouds; and,
far inland, a background of high hills,
clothed with tender foliage, q very baby
leafdom, just bursting into the fuller life.
Toward the west the trees give way a
little, letting a road be seen, that like a
straight pale ribbon runs between the
greenery for the space of quite a mile or
SO, and then reaches the small fishing vii
lage where the simple folk Of Glowring
Destley toll from one years end to the
other some in careless joy, some in cease
less labor, some, alas! in cruel weeping,
because Of those who will never come
back to the town.
Along the white road, that CLEANS
thirstily in the burning sunshine of this
hot midday in June, a carriage is crawl
ing with quite an aggravating slowness-
an antiquated vehicle of a type now al
most unknown. but which once beyond
doubt ''cost mon y" The carriage, being
an open one, ,l:ables the people as it
passes through the village to see without
undue trouble that the occupants of it are
two girls; both very young, both singular
iy alike, though in distinctly different
styles.
1T is charming" says the younger girl
with a little quick motion Of the hand
toward the sweeping bay, and the awak-
ening trees, and the other glories of the
landscape. "All charming, far better
than | ever dared hope for; and yet my
mind misgives me, Vera"
She turns brilliant glance on her SIS
ter, full of terrible insinuations, ard then
laughs little. Thus animated, she is
very pretty girl, half child, half woman,
as fresh as the morning, and with eyes
like stars. She lifts one slender black
gloved hand, and placing it beneath her
sisters chin, turns her face gently to her.
Such beautiful face. Very like the
riante one beside it, yet unlike, too. There
is a touch of sadness round the lovely
lips, mOurnful curve; indeed, thought
fulness too great for her years is stamped
on every feature. A tender, loving, yet
strong soul shines through the earnest
eyes, and when she smiles it is reluctant
ly, as if smiles all her life had been for
hidden to her.
oh! that reminds me- said Miss Dy-
sart. Il quite forgot to tell you of it,
but the day before we left Nice, Nell
Stewart said that this cousin you speak
of, if he does exist at all. at all events
does not do it here"
(which meansY'
THAT either he won't, or can't, life
with his father. Can't, Nell rather led
me to believe"
Cant it is, You may be sure" says the
younger girl, restlessly. Fancy a father
whose son can't live with him! And yet.
after all, virtuous astonishment on that
score is rather out of place with us. l
can imagine just such a father"
We'll, never mind that" says Miss Dy-
sart, hastily.
"Yes. Very good; let us then go from
sire to uncle" says her sister with lit
tie shrug. do you think we shall gain
much by the change? This old relative of
ours is. perhaps. as delightful as we could
wish him, and yet wish father had not
left us to his tender mercies."
DO not dwell ON that" says Vera,
with nervous haste; do not seek for
faults in the inevitable. He is all that is
left us. You know the sudden decision
arose out of letter received by father
from Uncle Gregory about a year ago.
When father was-was-dying- She
pauses abruptly, and tremor shakes her
last words.
The younger girl turns quickly to look
at her. There is infinite love and COM
passion in her glance, but perhaps little
contempt, and certainly little impa-
tience.
do you know" she says, ut may seem
heartless positively coarse, If you will
but do not think our father was a man
to excite respect, much less love or regret,
Or"
10 hot for nnf fn L 10 hat
interrupts Miss Dysart, in low, shocked
tone. Don't do it. darling. l know
what you mean, butt
And know that l shall never forgive
or forget the life he led you," says Grisel-
da, with certain angry excitement.
We'll, that is over!' says Miss Dysart,
with a quick sigh, heavily indrawn.
What was this vendetta, this terrible
lifelong quarrel that was kept up be-
tween him and father with such monoton-
GUS perssteDcy?"
That had to do with our grandfather's
will. Papa was the eldest son, yet the
property was left to Uncle Gregory; and
that for no reason at all. Naturally, papa
was very angry about it, and accused
Gregory OF using undue influence
Just so, and of course there is good
deal behind that you don't know. There
always Is, noOOuy ever tells quite every
thing. And besides Oh! Oh, Vera!
Oh. what has happened?'
GrSelda clutches in an agonized fashion
at the leather side of the crazy old
chariot, which has tOppled over to the
left side and stands in a decidedly dissi-
pated position. The ancient driver, pre-
sumably asleep. had let the horses wan
der at their own sweet will. and they be-
ing old and sleepy, too, the result was
that they had dragged two of the wheels
up ON n steep bank and nearly capsiZed
the carriage.
''Oh. thank you," says Miss Dysart.
leaning forward and addressing with earn
est glance and heightened color the young
man who had risen-descended, perhaps.
sounds pleasanter and more orthodox
like a good angel from somewhere-the
wood on their right, no doubt. A fishing
rod. lying on the road where he had flung
it when preparing for his ignoble battle
with those poor old horses, proclaims the
fact that he has been whipping the stream
that CLEANS here and there brilliantly
through the interstices of the trees.
"Oh. no." says he. lifting his hat, you
mustn't thank me. 1t was really nothing.
Poor brutes, think they were asleep;