Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-07-05

tirely believed what he said.
Hugh recrossed the river-this time,
by skillful balancing on the top of his
mare, escaping any water-and took tho
road to the house. The road was much
worse than he had ever known it, being
now little better than a gully. He pick
ed his way over stones and around
powders, the dirt all washed away by
the winters rains. 1t was plainly aban-
doned. He climbed the bank. Oh, yes,
they had given it up. Here were wheel
tracks crossing the field, each track an
incipient gully. Time would put this in
like state to the other; but there was
room in the field for a hundred more
roads, so why mend it?
The house gate hung by one hinge,
which snapped as he threw it carelessly
open, and down the gate fell, piece Of
fence with it. A calf Or two, some sheep,
and a ragged mule grazed on the early
grass Of the lawn. The land was soft,
and each hoof cut up the turf. Mrs. Car
rington came out on the wide gallery and
waved to him, and called "Joe." Joe
appeared, his mouth becrumbed and
showing traces of butter.
Here, Joe, take Mr.. Hugh's horse.
Hugh" She welcomed him with old
fashioned cordiality, and kissed him.
and, Joew she called, "driye out those
animals and prop the gate up with
rail. That colt is eating my rose BUSH"
she cried. She waved her arms fran
tically. "Go away, colt. Oh, dear! he's
bitten it. Go away, colt. Joe, shoe him
off. These miserable little beasts drive
me crazy. James promised to mend that
gate this morning; but he's so busy, poor
boy, he hardly has a minute. Come in,
Hugh. It's such a pleasure to have you
with us again"
She led him into the sitting room.
"What, no fre!" she exclaimed. THAT
trifing JoeW She ran to the window:
"Joe, bring some wood"
"There aim no wood in the wood-pile.
Mr.. James ain haul none this week"
Lets go into my room; It's warm
there"
Outside, in the sun, it was bright, but
a bleak wind came in at the wide-open
doors, and the passages were cold. 1t
was a very large house. Before the war
fifteen house servants had struggled I'M
Systematically to keep it respectable.
Now, nearly all the rooms were shut up.
Mrs. Darlington turned as she came to
the door Of her room. "Old Mrs. Letchcr
is staying here on visit. Do you mind
talking to her? She's an awful gossip,
but her children are not nice to her, and
| like to be kind to a friend Of mothers"
In spite Of Mrs. Letcher's being the
last survivor of a dead generation, her
back disdained the support Of the chair.
Unlike most old persons, her interests
were entirely in the present. She lived
on the doings Of her friends and neigh
bors. Many decades of devotion to Cos
sip, however, had rendered her memory
treacherous as to details. She was read
ing a novel in a bright yellow cover, it's
title printed in large black letters; and
Darlington smiled at the contrast be-
tween the little, faded, old woman and
the lurid piece of modern fiction.
"Why, Mistuh Hugh" she cried, recog-
pizing him, II have not seen you inflow
many five years. Not since your sister
was maid; and how long is that? And
how is she? And how are her dear chill
drenY"
Mrs. Spottswood, Hugh's sister, had no
children, and had been separated from
her husband two years. 1t was a sub
ject never referred to in the family, and
Hugh glowered. Mrs. Letcher ran on,
not waiting for an answer: "She was
such a beautiful gyurl! Gen. TazeWelPs
wife is the vey image of her, don't you
thing so? We hear so many stories now
about Mrs. Tazewell. You must know;
you live so near. Who was telling me
about her, just the other day? 1t has
entirely escaped me. | wouldn't repeat
the stories for the world, you know; but
I think the general had better stay at
home than fool away his time up north.
Haven't you heard them, Lizzie?"
Mrs. Darlington, whose feet had been
nervously beating the floor, answered,
stiffly: 'You know l never hear gossip.
It's little cold here. Don't you feel
draught, Mrs. Letcher?'
Mrs. Letcher was too interested to
worry over draughts. "You never hear
anything. It's shame how closely you
confne yourself at home. You must ex-
ert youself, Lizzie; it's very narrowing,
this never going out 1t seems Mrs.
Tazewell," she turned to Hugh, sis very
much interested in some young man. |
cyan't, for the life of me, remember
who 1t isl
Mrs. Darlington interrupted, firmly:
''I'm sure there's no truth in it. Have
you seen James this morning, Hugh?'
Before her nephew could answer, Mrs.
Letcher broke in, with some asperity: Il
am not saying / believe the story, Liz
zie Ca'ington. 1 said so myself, when 1
heard it. Surely, Mistuh Hugh would
know. Oh, I know! 1t was that new
Englishman-a Mistuh Maude. Some one
saw them riding down by the river one
night when she was shipping something
on a scow. SO imprudent! You know
how some people will talk. And l don't
believe there was the least need Of her
being there. I'm sure I'd have sent the
overseer, or, at least, have taken along
a female companion"
Did your tobacco turn out we'll,
Hugh?" Mrs. Darlington said, decidedly.
"You know" turning to Mrs. Letcher,
"ny nephev is a great tobacco planter"