The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1902-07-30

you. have noticed that the letters
which reach me from Annie are en-.
closed In envelopes embossed at the
extreme edge Of the opening. "Dicken-
son. Maker. Richmond. Surrey" That
you may not fai, to understand my
meaning. ! enclose one Of the envel.
opes From this evidence have
formed the opinion that she lives In
Richmond or thereabouts. and want
you. II you will. to institute secret
!nquiry-personally. II you can conve-
niently do SOTO ascertain this posi-.
lively. but you must be careful that
she does not see you. or before could
return to England she would he gone.
Should you discover her You might
telegraph to me. but II you fail to do
so a letter will serve. addressed Box
2S47, Posteffice. Sydney. n. s. W. I
am anxious to avoid returning to Eng
land unless there Is a GOOD chance Of
achieving my object. and this for sew.
eral reasons. Of which economy Is not
the Least. for have not found 1t easy
to travel as I have done on an income
less than 1000 year-though Of this
I make no complaint. II only might
see and talk with my Annie once more
l could die content.
With every good wish for yourself
and my grandson Ernest-who must
be almost. II not quite. man now
and assuring you both that have
never ceased to think Of you notwith.
standing my long silence. I remain. al
ways yours faithfully.
WILLIAM WOLSEY.
The letter fell from my hands and I
sat for some minutes lost In thought.
That the playmate Of my childhood.
she who had always been to me as q
sister rather than the relation she
really was. should have fallen so low.
filed me with sadness. while could
not but feel extreme pity for my
grandfather In his desolation. Thoughts
Of the happy Saturdays in summer
when. with little Annie for my COM
panIon. I had wandered through the
Suffolk groves in search Of nuts. or
chased her among the neglected grave.
stones Of Holdenhurst churchyard. Of
her bright eyes. rosy cheeks and happy
smile. crowded upon my mind. And I
thought. too. OF the stalwart old man
who had taught me to ride and shoot.
whom I had accompanied / know not
how many times to Bury market In
his village cart, picturing him now as
white-haired and bowed with care. I
know not how long my reverie lasted,
but when I was recalled to myself By
q summons to breakfast started up.
full Of energy. resolved to do whatever
might lie In my power to satisfy the
pathetic appeal I had just read.
Ny uncle and aunt and Miss Marsh
were already seated when I entered
the breakfast room. Uncle Sam was
stirring his coffee vigorously. and ap-
peared even more vivacious than usual.
"Whatw he exclaimed. as I entered
the door, lone week In London and
your country habits already lost!
Why, thought you were an early
riser. Come. Ernest, what have you
to say for yourself?"
"Only that I have been up for rea-,y
two hours"
1.-TWO hours!' echoed uncle Sam IL.
credulously: why. what have you
been doing?"
replied that had been reading my
letters. The declaration mystifed rr.
Gle Sam still more. II said he had
himself sorted all the letters which
had arrived. and there appeared to be
none for me. My explanation Of this,
I thought, was not very pleasing to my
uncle. for after remarking that what
ever might be the nature Of my CORE
spondence it did not seem very bened-
cial to me. for looked very pale over
Ii, he opened the Times its full width
and said no word more during break
fast.
You certainly have lost your color
this morning." remarked aunt Ger.
trude; "are you quite well. Ernesti"
"Ycs. / think so." replied. and
when the next minute Miss Marsh pro-
posed that I should 60 with her for q
long drive ! had no further doubt Of
the matter.
To no copfipued