Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1906-04-26
WALTER BLOOMFIELD

- W OCot that Jou oAo"A"
come home," said he, "if only for a
day or course. the place would be
safe enough with old John; but you
know never fancied leaving 1t unless
you were ut home, and just now there
are dozen or more strangers at the
Hall. 1t is strange piece Of business.
this affair of your Aunt Annie. l
have telegraphed to your grandfather
that / will do all l can to find out
where his daughter Is. though. SO far
as can perceive at present, that will
be very little. Annie Is the last girl In
The world 1 should have expected u
err In that way; she was always such
loving child. would no more have
believed that she had thought hidden
from her father than would Mt this
moment believe such thing Of you"
At this remark WINGED, yet fool.
ishly held my peace as to what l had
so lately read. and which now en-
crossed all my thoughts. TO be wise
after the event Is the quality of mod
ern prophets-of dispensers Of gener-
alities and copy-book wisdom. whom
have no desire to initiate. know
not how 1t was. suppose I am by
nature secrctive, or that ut the time
some ill-defined idea suggested itself
to my mind that l should best serve
my interest by carefully reserying
to myself the information l had ac-
CURED; though l have never at any
time regarded my fathers interest as
other than identical with my own, nor
did conceal my information as part
of a determined policy. That my reti-
cencc was a grave error l now know.
Had | at once impaired my discovery
to him who by nature and statute law
had the greatest right 20 know of 1t,
l had spared myself much misery and
the British public had not been az
flicted with these memoirs.
Even il you cannot suggest any.
thing for us to do in the matter" said
my father. continuing. "it is well that
you have returned home. When two
persons discuss a case some practical
bic notion will often occur to one Of
them which solitary contemplation
fails to produce. You have read your
grandlather's letter."
eyes; l have read Grandfather's let
ter" l replied.
"Well, and what is your opinion"
81 think he has acted unwisely In
making such long journeys to find his
daughter, more especially with such
slender means as his. If he did not
know at all what had become of her.
could better understand his doing
Sc; hut according to Ann!e's own let
tiers, rs grandfather describes them,
she has gone off of her own free will,
and repents her act only SO far as her
present position prevents her seeing
her father. Suppose Armies address
Is discovered, and grandfather visits
her and learns all her circumstances.
depend upon 1t his qualification will
end there; having been heartless
enough to voluntarily abandon her
father, she would hardly be likely to
give up whoever she Is with and return
to HOldenhurst, or to some employ
ment In London. That you may
gather from her protest that she Is
kindly treated. do not think so well
Of her as you and grandfather do"
"Why. Ernest, my boy, you begin
to reason like your uncle, and are
rather uncharitable; but fear you
are right"
II am not in the least uncharitable."
l retOrted warmly. "On the contrary,
l regret what has happened as much
perhaps as you do; but my sympathy
is more with grandfather than with
Annie Although l see but little use
in the inquiry he has asked you to
make. was in the act of starting
for Richmond to investigate the clue
he gave when the Rev. Evan Price
brought me your message, and I at
once came here instead Don't think
I'm Indifferent to what concerns you
SO much"
"My dear boy. why asure me of what
l know so well?" asked this best of
fathers. Your prompt return Is suf-
ficient proof of that" AS this parental
commentator was uttered we passed
through my fathers gates, and the
next minute alighted Mt the porch of
Holdenhurst Hall, where old John
stood at the open door to receive us.
had been absent from my birth
place only one week, but the changes
which had been made In that brief
period astonished me. The entire Hall
was encompassed with an intricate
network of scaffolding, and our beauti-
full lawn. disfgured by planks, ladders,
and piles of slate and white hewn
stone laid about In confusion. Many
of the upper windows he'd been taken
out. the vacant spaces presenting
grim, inhospitable aspect. Thoughts of
the enhanced grandeur of the place
the chilling depression that came over
me as l noticed these changes, and /
entered my old home with sadder and
stranger feelings than had ever be-
fore experienced.
My discomfort was increased when
saw the interior. All the pictures
and armor had been removed from
tue hall and staircase, and while part
OF the oak walls remained darkened
by the centuries part had been scraped
and polished and looked like the library
walls of Kensington mansion built
yesterday. In nearly all the rooms