Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1907-08-07
CHAPTER /.

warm day in June; the place niue
parlor in the most picturesque cottage
to be found on the estate of Brynmar;
the scene, a strange one, the first
that lived in the memory of Lady
Hutton's ward, and the one that in
fuenced her whole life.
There seems at times little or no
harmony between nature and man.
Outside the cottage the bonnie woods
of Brynmar were full of the bright
ness and beauty of summer. The
golden sunbeams fingered almost ten
Derby on the tall, 70 green trees; the
wild-fower gave forth rich tribute
of rare perfume; the birds sang
gaily and the busy bees hummed
from flower to flower, gathering sweet
honey from the feir Blossoms. In the
shade Of the wood there was deep
silence, unbroken, save by the rip
pling of the little brook and the faint
rustling of the leaves;-a summers
evening, such as poets sing of, a
golden flush Of color, a glory Of per-
fume and harmony.
Inside the cottage was a scene that
tod of the deepest human woe. The
beauty Of sunbeam and flower could
not touch It, There was sorrow which
nothing human could soften or alleyi-
ate In vain the roses and jessamine
-eeped in at the bright windows and
20 d. trrh sv.
sympathy. In vain the summer
breeze came in laden with the frag-
rance of the hawthorn and the new
mown hay; in vain birds sang and
flowers bloomed; in vain did the sweet
voices of Nature seem to whisper of
love and hope; it was all in vain, for
a human heart was breaking there,
from excess of sorrow and woe.
It was strange scene. The par
lor was bare and poorly furnished; no
carpet, no pictures, no books. nothing
that told Of comfort; stern, dread
poverty was shown in the few articles
Of furniture; In a small chair near
the center of the room sat lady mag
nificently dressed, costly velvets and
rich silks swept the cottage floor.
She was in the very prime of life, a
tai, stately, welcomed figure. a
clear-cut, calm patrician face bear.
ing the impress of many troubles.
No one ever called Lady Hutton beau
tiful but in the exquisite refinement
of every feature, in the expression of
the clear eyes, and the smiles that at
rare intervals lighted her face, there
was a charm deeper than that of vivid
coloring or perfect form. Her dark
brown hair was plainly braided; her
dress, in It's simple elegance, was per
lection. She looked what she was, a
thorough English gentlewoman, calm.
elegant, and refined. If any storms OF
passion had ever crossed her quiet
face, there was no trace of It now /:
II scorn, or hate, or love had eyer
dwelt in that quiet heart, they were
all dead. She seemed as one who
looks out upon the world, yet takes
little interest in It.
Far different from the calm, passion
less lady was the beautiful woman
who had knelt, half crouched upon
the floor, and covered with hot, bitter
tears, the white, soft fingers of a lit
tie child. A waving mass of rich
golden brown hair fell over her shout
ders in splendid confusion and dis
orer; the face though deathly pale
an stained with tears, was a most
beautiful one. There was a supple
grace in every line of her figure, a
dignity even in her establishment,
yet Magdalen Hurst vas but a simple
villager, owing none of her rare
beauty to noble birth or high descent.
She had no thought of her beauty. If
ever oman's face looked as though
er heart was broken. Magdalen
Hurst's looked so now. Passionately.
wistfully she kissed the child's hands.
and buried her face on the little head.
kissed her as though she hungered
and crave for love. kissed her with
all the warmth of affection and the
passion of despair
My little Hilda." she cried. look
at me: let me carry your sweet face
in my heart; look at me, darling,"
Ny little Hilda," she cried, look
at me; let me carry your sweet face
in my heart look at me darllng!"
The little one raised her wondering
eyes to the white wistful face.
and there was a strong resemblance
between mother and child Both had
tn same beautiful violet eyes; the
mothers hair was golden brown. but
the childs pretty curls were of pare
pale gold, the same delicate. charm
ing features, the same white brow and
arched red lips The two gazed at
each other, the mother with difficulty
refraining from tears. the child won
dering what all this sorrow meant.
I am half sorry came" said Lady
Hutton. You will unfit yourself
for your journey Magdalen."
4 could not have left without seeing
her said the woman, pleadingly.
oh, Lady Hutton. can you not tell
what 1t is to have your heart torn in
two, as mine is? must give up my
husband or my child He is in sor-
row, in exile, and in want She will