The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1903-10-30
The Last Days Of Summer
By S. Rhett Roman.

| L had been pleasant, quite d pleas
L ant summer, Harold thought,
lazily.
Coming 10 the seashore to spend the
first few months of mourning for his
Uncle Dick. Poor old fellow! He
was always so absurdly lenient and
forgiving of those college pranks, and
he remembered later and worse mis-
deeds!" Harold thought musingly,
while looking out across the water.
Harold had anticipated a dull time.
Aunt 10 abbreviated from Jo-
sephine), had never been specially
earliest and latest recollections of her
were unvarying.
They represented a somewhat Quer-
ulous, very eXacting, elderly woman,
fastidious in her tastes and habits,
spOilt by adulation, as wealthy women
are apt to be, and very much of an
imaginary invalid.
Her town establishment was on a
grand scale, and Sea View" this cot
tage on the Atlantic coast, one of her
iayorite summer resorts, was ideal
from the standpoint of comfort and
luxury.
If Aunt 10 could only be induced to
distract her thoughts from herself and
her supposed ailments by reading, sew
ing or knitting, or by a pug dog, it
would be a blessing. She would be
more bearable, and less gossipy, Har-
old was convinced.
When her urgent invitation came,
after the funeral, when going back to
the great lonely house, whose every
: nook and corner seemed to miss the
presence of the kindly, genial man
whose love and affection were so I'M
wavering, Harold had come to rely on
them, as on the rising and setting of
the sun, he hailed it with pleasure, as
offering some solace from the terrible
depression, of the handsome rooms,
always crying out for one who was
absent.
Dismiss the servants and shut up
the house, Harris. l will be away
three months, at my aunt's, Mrs. Stuart
Campbell, and later | may go abroad.
1 will notify you," directed Harold to
his uncle's gray-haired butler, whose
Stolid grief was in itself a reason for
the new heir to all this wealth to get
away from the home which had been
his from earliest childhood.
His Uncle Harry had brought him,
awful disaster which had bereft him
of parents.
''Of course Mrs. Benson must stay to
help you air the house and look after
things. l may be away quite long
while Harold added, which gave
shade of relief to the sad, austere face
of the old man.
Il will be delighted to have you," his
aunt had written. You will find Sea
View very quiet. My nervous condi-
ton does not permit me to take any
part in social functions, even if poor
Harry's death permitted it. But, of
course, you will want to be out of that
sort of thing for some months, while
your lawyers are attending to matters,
then you will be able to go abroad.
You will find life here monotonous.
But l suppose, under the circum-
stances, it will not be worse than any
where else
80 L will expect you on Thursday;
of course, you know that have Nam
MES daughter with me- By taking the
morning train you can reach us in time
for church, at seven o'clock. The drag
will be at the wharf. Your affectionate
aunt,
JOSEPHINE STEWART CAMPBELL"
Harold now looked back with a smile
to his first introduction to this distant
and heretofore unknown cousin.
Before reaching the pierhead, while
leaning on the deck railing watching
the usual commotion the arrival of a
steamboat creates in remote places, he
saw a pair of bays and drag come
sweeping down the shell road. The
horses were driven by young woman
who certainly knew how to handle
them.
Pulling up short with considerable
dexterity, she looked up to scan the
passengers on the deck, waiting for the
boat to land, and the gangplank to be
thrown out
"Hell5! I've come for you." she cried.