The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1902-01-24
CHAPTER |.

clOtDeQ Win leuutE icihbNi -.
leafdom, just bursting into the fuller me-
Toward the west the trees give way
little, letting road be seen, that IKE
straight pale ribbon runs between the
greenery for the space of quite mlle OF
so. and then reaches the small hshlng VII
lage where the simple folk of Glowrlhg
Destley toll from one years end to the
other. some in careless joy, some IN cease
less labor, some. alas! in cruel Weepihs'
because OF those "who will never come
back to the town"
Along the white road, that CLEANS
thirstily in the burning sunshine OF TINS
hot midday in June, a carriage is crawl
ing with quite an aggravating siowness-
an antiquated vehicle of type now al
most unknown, but which once beyond
doubt "cost money" The carriage, being
an. open one, enables the people as y
passes through the village to see without
undue trouble that the occupants OF 1t are
two girls; both very young, both singular
" alike, though in distinctly different
styles.
"It 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 misgiyes me, Vera"
She turns brilliant glance on her sis
ter full of terrible insinuations, and 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 1t beneath her
sisters chin, turns her face gently to her.
Such a 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
bidden to her.
"Ohl that reminds me- said Miss by
sart. Il quite forgot to tell you of it
but the day before we left Nice, Mel
Stewart said that this cousin you speal
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, lif'
with his father. Can't, Nell rather lee
me to believe"
Cant 1t is, you may be sure" says tn,
younger girl, restlessly. Fancy fathe
whose son cant live with him! And yet
after all, virtuous astonishment on tina
score is rather out of place with us.
can imagine just such father"
"Well, never mind that" says Miss Dy
sart, hastily.
Eyes, Very good; let us then go fror
sire to uncle" says her sister with lit
tie shrug do you think we shall ga
much by the change? This old relative o
ours is, perhaps, as delightful as we eoul
wish him, and yet | wish father had nc
left us to his tender mercies."
"Do not dwell on that" says Yer,
with nervous haste; do not seek fo
faults in the inevitable. He is all that
left us. You know the sudden decisio
arose out of letter received by fathe
from Uncle Gregory about year agt
When father -was-dying-" Sh
pauses abruptly, and tremor shakes he
last words.
The younger girl turns quickly to loo
at her. There is infinite love and con
passion in her glance, but perhaps litt
contempt, and certainly a little imp
tience.
DO you know" she says, "it may see
heartless-positively coarse, IL you will
but | do not think our father was a ma
to excite respect, much less love or regre
or"
"Oh! it is better not to speak like that
interrupts MisssDysart, in low, shock,
tone. Don't do it, darling. | kno
what you mean, but"
And know that | shall never forgi,
or forget the life he led yOu," says Girls,
da, with a certain angry excitement.
well, that is overr' says Miss DysaI
with quick sigh, heavily indrawn.
What was this vendetta, this territ
lifelong quarrel that was kept up /
tween him and father with such monoto
GUS persistency"
'That had to do with our grandfather
will Papa was the eldest son, yet I
property was left to Uncle Gregory; a
that for no reason at all. Naturally, pa
was very angry about it, and accus
Gregory of using undue influence"
Just so, and Of course there is a go
deal behind that you don't know. The
always is; nobody ever tells quite evel
thing And besides Oh! Oh, Vel
Oh! what has happenedT
Griselda clutches in an agonized fashi
at the leather side Of the crazy
chariot, which has toppled over to
left side and stands in decidedly dis
pated position. The ancient driver, p
sumably asleep, had let the horses WI
der at their own sweet will, and they
ing old and sleepy, too, the result "
that they had dragged two Of the whe
mn on a steep bank and nearly capsi7
the carriage.
"Oh, thank you," says Miss Dysa
leaning forward and addressing with ca
est glance and heightened color the you
man who had risen-descended, perha
sounds pleasanter and more orthodo,
like a good angel from somewhere
wood on their right, no doubt. A fish
rod. lying on the road where he had tiu
it when preparing for his ignoble bal
with those poor old horses, proclaims
fact that he has been whipping the sire
tnNI Elehhs utIt uuu hutIt ulllllhA
through the interstices of the trees.
"Oh. no." says he, lifting his hat, ''!
mustn't thank me. 1t was really nothi
Poor brutes, think they were aisle
they 1t is hot, isn't itr' This last
says hastily, as il ashamed of his 1
madversion on the age of the sorry ca
in Question-their horses, no doubt;
there is something wonderfully charm
in the faint apologetic color that spri
into his cheeks. As he finishes speak
he looks at Griselda so hard that she Il
it incumbent on heg to return his gla
and TO say something.
I'VE thought our last hour had con
she says, laughing softly, and looking
him little shyly, but so prettiy. -
for you, one cannot say where we she
be now
She bows to him, and so does her
ter quite as graciously, and then
horses once more commence their su
like progress, gBinding through the dr
road AT the rate Of three miles an h
The little episode is 0yer; the young I
settles his sofe hat more firmly on
head. picks up his rod. regards it q
iously TO see that no harm has come
it, and disappears once more into
shelter Of the cool wood.
Half an hour later they are at the
trance gate OF Greycourt. and practic
at their journeys end. Both girls, '
an Involuntary nlSvement cr0e {
necks out OF the carriage to get a
glimpse at their future home, and
turn a dismayed glance on each OF
Anything more dreary, more unfrien
yet withal grand in its desolation. G
hardly be seen.