The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-09-29
; By 88 ETA sc W.. 90 PIERCE. 90:


She had wandered far afield this
morning, and doubtless her captious
relative was already seeking her. To
return to the old manor house by the
hedge. instead of the high road, was
to shorten the distance by a mile, at
least. Jacqueline, anxious to begin
the business which now confronted
her, determined to try the way ia
miliar to the Cornish native. A
hedge in Cornwall is composed, not
of green growth, but Of stones, broad
enough at the top to form a dry and
| convenient footpath. The one chosen
by Jacqueline vas crumbl.ng with
age, and difficult of ascent, but the
American girl scrambled lightly to
the top, and walked airily away over
the rough path, her pretty summer
| dress futtering in the wind, her soft,
dark hair blown in disorder about
her temples. So absorbed was she
in her own thoughts that she did not
perceive a blonde, bloomy-faced
young man advancing over the same
footway from the opposite direction.
He, too, seemed lost in meditation,
and the pair were actually confront
ing each other, before either man or
woman became aware of it. Both
paused, surprised, ~ill-pleased.
No Cornish hedge is broad enough
to enable two pedestrians to pass
without trouble. Jacqueline waited
with q lofty air, but the blonde man
made no movement.
81 fear" she said, coldly, that n
of US must jump down"
He lifted his hat, but with a GER
tain ungraciousness that did not es-
cape the girl. Permit me to give
place to YOU" he answered, and
dropped to the ground. Jacqueline
bowed like a duchess, and continued
her way along the hedge top, never
looking back.
How horrid these Englishmen
are!" she thought; "he did not like
to do that"
The house occupied by Aunt Brad
shaw stood in its own grounds, near
a sleepy little market town, with the
moor undulating behind it, and the
sea plainly visible from its ancient
gates. BY the advice Of her phys
icians, Mrs. Bradshaw had left Lon
don and it's gaieties in the very height
of the season, and with niece and
servants had journeyed to this spot,
in search of rest and quiet. The
Elizabethan house, built of gray
stone, was surrounded by an immense
garden full of century-old pear trees
ounces and medlars, espaliers, COW
cred with ripening fruit, divided the
tagged walks. Wall flowers and
double stocks ran wild in the Dor
ders; and Portugal laurel, ash and
brown beech filled all empty spaces.
Jacqueline found her kinswoman
reclining in an easy chair, in a Wa1ns-
coted sitting-room near q window
smothered in ivy and china roses. A
gray-haired, high-featured woman,
dressed with great elegance, n
wearing an air of languor and IA
tigue. Decidedly a grand dame. AS
Jacqueline opened the door, MrS.
Bradshaw turned ENORMOUSLY.
AT last" she said. Where have
Won been, this unreasonable while.
Jac?"
II went off to the cliffs to read
Doris letter." answered Jacqueline.
could not you read it indoors,
you absurd child? /, too, received
letters-here is one from Lord Mon
teith." She drew a closely written
sheet from an envelope that bore a
crest. He is seeking some pretext
to visit Cornwall am sure we may
look for him soon. All, my dear, l
suspected you had made a conquest
the night of Lady Swayne's ball.
This is certainly the day OF the
American girl. Monteith has a place
in Norfolk, and a deer forest in Scot
land"
He also has a bald head, Aunt
Bradshaw, and crows feet at the
corners of his eyes," interrupted
Jacoueline. "Oh, dear Aunt Brad
shaw, let US not talk of Lord Mon
teith."
She stood up, straight and tall, IN
the low-ceiled room-a beautiful
creature, certainly, with her big,
dark eyes and creamy skin, and soft
ly rumpled coils of blue-black hair.
Mrs. Bradshaw was proud Of the girl,
anG, after her own fashion, fond OF
her, also.
Very WE'LL" she answered, with
your face, and the dot which you will
receive from me, I am certain that
you can make a better match than
Monteith. even. Shake up these
cushions, my dear-I will write and
discourage him from coming here,
and as soon as this Cornwall air re-
stores me we will go to Invernesshire,
where some American friends of
mine have a moor; and after that,
you shall see the Dieppe races, or,
if you like, Trouville in the bathing
season, OF Homburg-you have never
been to Homburg'-
Aunt Bradshaw" Jacqueline
drew a step nearer the speaker, and
held out Doris letter. will you
read this? Oh, please-please make
no more plans for me! 1t grieves
me to tell you-you will think me an
ungrateful wretch, but, dear Aunt
Bradshaw, I must go home-my
heart is breaking to see Doris!'
Aunt Bradshaw grew stiff in every
limb. Her countenance changed.
She took the letter mechanically, adj