The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1903-11-04

Of sone ecelette or pleasure craft on
the wind.rjppled waters Of Bayou st.
John, visible through the big iron gar
den gate, and the twittering OF spar
rows in tee trees, speak of an aloof-
ness from The rush and fret and con-
tehtinn of che outside world which has
for me an indescribable charm.
"Hello, Harris! What are you do.
irgW I query from the depths Of a
big Russian leather chair, so placed in
the library as to command an outside
view (of which I never seen to tire)
from the dining room through the fold
ing doors and draperies Of ancient
satin damask shading them.
"The housekeeper said her mistress
bess you will use them. SIR Harris
explained, placing with the apprecia'
tive care Of born butler some splen'
die pieces Of heavy old plate on the
sideboard.
Bringing one Of them for my insnec'
tion I saw the crest Of the d'Aurillac
family heavily engraved, and could
not help but smile at the absurdity OF
the ancient maiden who owned this
fine old property, now evidently going
to ruin, keeping heirlooms Of such in.
trinsic value shut up in cupboard IN
stead of selling them and having her
home renovated and the roof retiled.
I vaguely wondered as to the per
sonality Of Miss Aurore d'Aurillac,
and I grew indignant to think that the
day was inevitable when l would see
her in the exquisite old garden pot
tering around and being an eyesore.
Well, I have been here over
month and the dreaded appari-ion has
not yet materialized.
My landlady. who lives in some mys-
terious and always silent region over.
head, is apparently invisible to mortal
eye. and to all intents and purposes |
have inherited Fortune d'Aurillac's
splendid old home along with his rare
collection of art objects. which It must
have taken him long years and much
travel to have collected.
Silence reigns, and never see his
descendant. Miss d'Auri!lac Whether
she is austere, devout and dried up, or
two hundred pounds in weight and
wh eezy. she still retains customs and
ideas Of Jadis, which are wonderfully
dissimilar from those generally pre-
vailing in our sharp and aggressively
progressive twentieth century.
When I came to a realization OF the
maenlficence of this ancient domain
wrote a note to Miss d'Aurillac, ez
planning that in my opinion the price
stipulated between her housekeepeI
and myself was altogether inadequate
in view of the luxurious and costly
appointments Of the rooms.
she answered, with thanks for my
suggestion, that the arrangement must
remain as it was.
OF course, sent her hothouse flow
ers and some books, not to be ou:done
in the amenities of life by this pune
tilious old maid, whom apparently
am not destined to see.
Spring has come and gone. and the
early. days Of summer are here. ane
still linger in Fortune d'Aurillac's
house. where the idle habits Of reverle
aad almost of content seem to have
taken hold of me.
MY charmingly discreet landlady
whose invasion of her own premises
had so dreaded, remains secluded
mystery, although one calm night
when the windows we're all open and
I sat until late hours on the porch,
heard sounds Of weeping and the voice
of the housekeeper, in very gentle
even tender, tones demonstrating
soothingly.
Hers is certainly a lonely and melan
choly existence. and. doubtless, like
the rest Of us. Miss d'Aurillac has just
cause for occasional tears.
There is one bright spot in her exist
ence, however, which is certainly radi
ant
It Is represented by a young cir
who visits her occasionally, and who
slipping out into the garden to gather
violets one early morning. stood bare
headed and basked in the sunlight
looking laughingly up at z window
where I imagined Miss d'Aurillat
stood. quite unconscious that the 10
cataire" Of that austere and elderly
maiden was gazing to his hearts con
tent from the obscurities Of the library
at slim girlish figure in cool spring
gown, and face as beautiful as those
which Greuze delighted to immortal
lie.
The deep violet Of her eyes and the
red bronze hair, the wild rose flush o1
cheek and lips. the grace Of attitude
as she held up her big bunch Of vic
lets, were all dreamed Of and painted
by Greuze.
Gathering her skirt away from the
QeW-WSL leaves VI luS lulSh IVA oSA
marking the beds, this fair young gir
ran lightly along, showing two pretty
slender feet, and disappeared through
a side gate.
can't help but wonder who she IS
Some relative Of Miss d'Aurillac, OF
course.
To her the name Of Aurore would be
ma.velously suitable, for she recalls to
mind the tender sky tints Of early
dawn. the cool freshness Of fragrant
unsullied nature, at break Of day, be
fore the fiery heat Of later hours has
scorched and wilted the glorious exu'
berance of nature. or storms and TEN
pests have ravished and laid waste the
fair domain.
I know not her name, but to me she
Is Aurore.
We made acquaintance this way.
OF course. I knew that whenever she
came to visit her ancient relative
she would be tempted to come in the
garden, now aglow with it's spring
ad c,rnnor hIoorn R1,t o0lv when