Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1902-04-15

how many OF them gave thought to
his memory! In this case the asser-
ton that he crested from his labors"
was a trifie ambiguous. Consignipg
poor Erasmus to oblivion. | contin-
ued my walk. Presently nv ewes
caught an inscription that mace me
halt again. 1t was dedicated to the
Loving Memory of William Kitwa-
ter, and Susan, his wife" l was still
looking at it, when / heard a step
on the gravel-path behind me. and
turning round, l found myself stand
ing face to face with Miss Kitwater.
To use the conventional phrase,
church had "come out" and the con-
gregation was even now making it's
way down the broad avenue towards
the high-road.
"How do you do, Mr.. Fairfax" said
Miss Kitwater, giving me her hand
as she spoke. ut is kind indeed of
you to come down. 1 hope you have
good news for us?'
81 am inclined to consider it good
news myself" l said. 81 hope YOU
will think so too
She did not question me further
about it then, but, asking me to ex-
cuse her for moment, stepped over
the little plot of ground where her
dear ones lay, and plucked some of
the dead leaves from the flowers
that grew upon it. To my thinking
she was just what an honest English
girl should be; straightforward and
gentle, looking the whole world in
the face with frank and honora BILE
simplicity. When she had finished
her labor of love, which only occu-
pied her few moments, she sug-
gested that we should stroll on to
her house.
MY uncle will be wondering what
has become of me-" she said, "and
you"
He does not accompany you to
church, then?"
NO" she answered. "He is so
conscious of his affection that he
cannot bear it to be remarked. He
usually stays at home and walks up
and down path in the garden,
brooding, l am afraid, over his treat
ment by Mr.. Hayle. 1t goes to my
heart to see him"
And Mr.. Codd?"
'He, poor little man, spends most
of his time reading such works on
archaeology as he can obtain. 1t is
his one great study, and 1 am thank
full he has such a hobby to distract
his mind from his own trouble
Their coming to England must
have made great change in your
life" l remarked.
at has made a difference" she an
swered. But one should not lead
ones life exactly to please ones self
They were in sore distress, and l am
thankful that they came to nue., and
that l had the power to help them"
This set me thinking. She spoke
gravely, and ! knew that she meant
what she said. But underlying it
there was a suggestion that, for
some reason or another, she had not
been altogether favorably impressed
by her visitors. Whether was right
in my suggestions I could not tell
then, but 1 knew that I should in all
probability be permitted better OPP
portunity of judging later on. We
crossed the little bridge, and passed
along the high road for upwards of
a mile, until we found ourselves
standing at the entrance to one of
the prettiest little country resi-
dences it has ever been my lot to
find. A drive, some 80 yards or SO in
length, led up to the house and was
shaded by overhanging trees. The
house itself was of two stories and
was covered by creepers. The gar
den was scrupulously neat, and fan
cied that could detect its mistress
hand in it. Shady walks led from it
in various directions, and at the end
of one of these / could discern tall,
restless figure, pacing up and down.
There is my uncle" said the girl,
referring to the figure / have just
described. ''That is his sole occupa-
ton. He likes it because it is the
only part of the garden in which he
can move about without a guide.
How empty and hard his life must
seem to him now, Mr.. Fairfax?'
sit must, indeed" I replied. "To
my thinking blindness is one of The
worst ills that can happen to man.
1t must be particularly hard to one