Kawartha Lakes Public Library Digital Archive

Fenelon Falls Gazette, 1 May 1914, p. 2

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witmuararmxsy: «1mm» mzmmmz ( mavwnvuium? 1 den Or, Married - CHAPTER ‘VIrâ€"(Contlnuedla‘: A light touch on my shoulder made me start violently. I turned and saw Lilith, whom. in the new dread that was cretsping over me. 1 had altogether for- gotten. peering over my shoulder into Horatio Saxon’s face. “Father is’dead!” she said. in an awe- struck whisper, Speaking what I hardly dared to think. _ , I laid him down as I had found him. and. taking Lilith by thehand. I led ‘lier. crying silently. back to the inn. ’Ihen I summoned Nokes from the bar as‘ quietly as I could. and immediately outâ€"l to a Fairy. "Couldn‘t liave‘been display.- 0 marry old Saxon." llau'ghed 'the 'docmr‘.’ “No. no. my dear sir. Take the word of an older manâ€"domestic service is the only safeguard for a pretty girl with vagrant instincts and no education. Our early impressions are the strongest. and you don't make a decorous member of society out of a girl whose childhood and early girlhood is spent in tramping about the country ' s a gypsy." “I am extremely sorry for the poor child." I said. speaking in as calm and matterâ€"ofâ€"t‘u‘ct tones as possible.‘ "The man Saxon was a brute to her. but. to tell the truth. I feel in some measure side his doors I told him briefly whatlresponslble for his violent death. for, had happened. and took him with me to where Lilith’s father lay. Saxon was really dead. I had .‘ludg‘edl him to be past mortal aid when I had left him a few minutes before. Death. indeed, must have been almost instan- taneous. for he had not even uttered a, groan. l~le lay there. a dark patch uponl the shining white roadway. with a nar-I row red stream trickling from under the wound in his head. l By Mr. Noke’s advice I borrowed a horse from the farm by the churchyard and rode off as fast as the animal‘s sturdy legs could carry me to summon a doctor from Sandliytlie. since doctors were unknown in Lythinge. with the ex-l ccption of the local “vet.” That clatter- iiig journey over the moonlit roads will linger long in my memory. I always as-l sociate it now with the scent of hay. stacks of which. fragrant after the heavy rains. bordered the lonely. high- way. ' My mind throughout that ten-mile ride to and from Sandiiythe was in a tnr-l moil of excitement. On one point I was' resolvedâ€"Lilith’s future should be as free from toil and poverty as I could! make it. Under the clear-eyed stars. in[ tiie sweet-scented summer-night still-f ness. I took myself to task about my mo- tives. and did not try to deceive myself. I loved the child. not yet with a man's love for a woman. but with a protective. pitying tenderness. 1 had never yet met a. human creature who interested me sol deeply. and. had it been possible. so.I strong was the romantic passion with; which she inspired me. I would liave‘ dedicated my whole life to her service! As to the wisdom or folly of harboring; such sentiments in my heart. for the- lovely. neglected, little vagrant whom: fate had cast in my way. I could not got into that question. A man loves where. he must. not where he should. and al-l ready this child of sixteen. whom I had that day encountered for the first time,l was more. infinitely more. to me than any other living thing. As to forming any definite plan for' her future. that I certainly had not done. In some measure her father's death lay at my door. and I was; boundI to see that she was not a loser by it. Ail the same time. I knew quite well that not duty. but personal inclination. mov- ed me to provide for her future. All that I had really decided upon was to .seek out her relatives. 'and ascertain whether they were willing. for‘a coii-; sideration. to provide' Lilith with a home while she attended a school _to amend her deficiencies in the matter of. education. - i As to what would be her subsequentl career I would not trouble myself to think. She would never want a honie.l or friendship, or advice. or money. while‘ I lived; but even while I thought thus,l in a glow of protective affection. I realâ€"E izcd with a pang that my life was notl my own to offer her. Had I been free: I felt I could have taught her to love me, and could have so molded hersweetl pliable nature that in a year or two she? might have felt for- me some slight! measure at least of the‘ affection which I could find it in me to lavish upon her. But Lady Madge's image interposed be- twocn me and this realization of all my dreams. and I fancied I could see the soorni‘ul curl of the lip and hear the fine scarcasm in her tone as she alluded to “Adrian's philanthropic interest in a girl of sixteen he found dancing for pcncc in a countryatavern." ‘ The words and tone. even in imagina- tion. stung me. I whipped the fat sidesl of the farm horse so that in rapid mo- tion I might forget their sting. and. galloping heavily. found myself at a lit- tle past eleven in the sleeping town of] Sandhythe. not far from the address of' the doctor which Bit-.‘Nokes had given me. Returning alongside of the doctor in his gig. after a great deal of time had been wasted in his stable in slow and sleepy preparation. he informed me thatl he was acquainted with the dead man. having attended him once in Sandhythe' for an apoplectic seizure brought on by heavy drinking. , ‘ man of some education and intelli- gence. Saxon seemed. but of.hcpeless {pheniiaii habits. I remember he had a very pretty little girl with a lot of fair hair. About fourteen. I should say. she was then. Do you know whether she was with him at Lythinge?" "She is at the Rose and Crown under lilrs. Nokes' care. at this moment." “Poor child! it will be a bad business for her. as I think the man told me he had neither money nor friends. I know I didn't charge him anythingâ€"didn’t think I should get it if I had. Shocking training for a girl tramping about the: country with him in all sorts ofweatlier. and all sorts of company. My wife was interested in the child‘s pretty face. She is a very kindâ€"hearted woman. and may be able to do something for her. to get her a nurscnuiid‘s or scullery-maid‘s place somewhere. ,But it isn't everybody who would have her with such antece- . n irely." said I. with dilculty re- straining my feelings. "having a drunk- en and disreputable father. and no money and no friends, is 'her misfortune and not her fault. And. from what I have heard. her mother was a lady.” . l l l l THEIR; CLOTHES ,- I ~ “fif’WlTH of Cloth Perfectly, with the SAME DYE. ‘No Chance of Mistakes. Clean and Simple. our nnln at or Dealer. Send {or Booklet. '; I‘hnlohnhn- chadson Co. L:mitcd.hionucu l . able joy of folding her in my arms and fillers-$118”#933117???“ ilytniiige church- meeting them together on the highroad. I interfered to prevent him from abusing her, and it was in striking out at me that he overbalanced and fell. I have been thinking over what I can do for Lilith. and if I can find out her relatives it will be better. I should for her to live with them during the next two ‘years. while she attends a school for her education." . . The doctor fixed his eye-glasses on his nose and turned to look at me where I jogged along by the side of his gig in the moonlight. .‘fDo I understand," lie asked dryly, “that you intend to adopt Lilith. and try to make a lady of hera” The blood rose to my face at some- thing in his tone. but I kept my temper, for the child's sake. “There is no question of adoption." I answered. “but I can afford to help Lilith. and I intend to do so.” "All! To help her by giving two years' finishing polish to an education that has not yet begun! And what is to become of her at the end of the two years. After learning to jabber French and play the piano. you won’t find her very willing to take up domestic service; and yet. what else can she do?” - ~ “Two years is a. long way ahead." I was beginning, when he cut me short. ' “Pardonmc for asking you.” he said, “but are you a married man?" “No. But 1 really cannot see how that affects the question." "The world would see, Mr. Hervey. The world is apt to misunderstand the motives-of a handsome young single gentleman of good faintly, who takes a philanthropic interest in a lovely little orphan beggar-girl. You take my advice, sir. Leave Lilith to my wife; she is lady superintendent of a home for train- ing young servants in our town, and she will no doubt be willing to get the girl in there. Then, if you I‘cally'want‘to do anything for her. you can see my wife about it. and place in her hands any sum you like for Lilith‘s clothing and expenses. The girl 'need never know to whom she is indebted for the money, and like that, both you and she will escape being placed in an altogether false posi- tion. New, isn't there some sense in what 1 say?” “No doubt there is. But Lilith herself should have some voice in the matter. llere we are at Lythinge. Ivcan see the church over the trees. We will talk over this matter at another time, doctor. Meantime, I respect your motive and thank you fer your advice. which I am sure is well meant.” “But which you don't mean to 'take. eh? Think it over, Mr. Hervey; think .it over!’ "I will,” I said; and I did. But not for a moment could I reconâ€" cile myself to the thought of my beauti- ful Lilith washing dishes, scrubbing and scouring, at the mercy of another wo- man's orders and another woman’s tongue from morning till night. It would like betraying her confidence to hand her over to the tender mercies of some.un~ known‘nnistress. kindly and practical. who would no doubt disapprove of Li- llth’s beauty, and, finding her “too good- looking for a servant,” would cut off or fasten up her beautiful yellow hair, en- case those lovely. slender feet in coarse boots, and thrust “blacking-gloves" on those little hands of hers. . That sweet frankness and genuine love for the beauties of nature and the charm of an open-air existence would have to be exchanged for a respectful taciturnity. and such gratification as could be found by an occasional “Sun- day afternoon out" with a "young man.” probably one of the soldiers stationed at Sandliythe. And at that last thought a sharp pang of jealousy taught me the hollowness 01’ my philanthropy. I loved the I child. There was not the least doubt of that, and the doctor or any one else would have been ready enough to believe it. What they would not have been able to understand was that I also respected her as absolutely as though she had been a lady “of high degree" and I a humble servitor. h It was true that I meant to consult Lilith as to her future. But I knew al- ready what her answer would be, and my mind was made up. That night, through the ,thinpartition walls. I heard her sobbing, and the sound strengthened my determination. No more tears should she shed. no more. sorrow should shadow her happy nature. if I could prevent it. She should have her chance in life; and if the unutterâ€" knowing her love to me minecould never come to me. at least she should have a friend to stand between her and the rough buffetings of the world. And thus. with open eyes. I entered into what has since been called “the‘ greatest mistake of my life.” CHAPTER VII. The tragic death of Horatio Saxon caused quite a stir in Lythinge. The veterinary doctor stood by his fl‘Ollt.(lOOl‘ discussing it. the vicar called at the Rose and Crown, the trade in beer went up by at least thirty glasses during the day. and rustics by twos and threes would halt solemnly by the stony patch in the road where the man had met his death. and stare at the spot as though their slowly moving minds were reconstructing the scene. lt was, of course, impossible for me to leave the neighborhood until after the inquest. but for many reasons I shifted my quarters to the substantial old Coach-I ing inn by the crossroads, half-way be- tween Lythin‘ge and the railway junc- tion. where i had lunchcd on my first arri'val. Lilith I placed in Mrs. Nokes‘ care "until the funeral." after relieving that good lady‘s mind by promising to payl all her expenses; and. save for a fleeting glimpse of ler a ross the room at the. inquest. held of the inn where I was staying, I saw nothing of her untiJ (menus yrnorntng. - ‘- bells suminone {he to the wind-swept graveyard where the body of Horatio Saxon was to be interred. _______â€"_â€"â€"â€"â€"-.__. W. in" be large coa'c fâ€"h'ou’sel' after ten o'clock and shouted for his daughter. Lilith and I were there to corroborate each other as t his fall. and Nokes.‘ the landlord. prove his sum- mons by me and his discovery of the body where it lay in the roadway. The dead man's drunken habits had so weakened his constitution that the state of his heart alone might-have made any sudden shockfatal‘to him. . It was clearly ‘a,"death from misadventure.", and was in no way complicated by any testamentary arrangements 'on the part of the deceased. for an examinalibn of his pockets produced nothing but 'a torn’ copy of Shakespeare. twopence half- penny in bronze, a pipe, and several» pawn tickets: : 1No, One mourned ~i‘or.liim.~"‘no one" 'rel gretted .lii‘m.‘ Lilith. when I..saw;;lierfat the inquest, was dressed in an ill-titting black stuff gown, which hung all too loosely on her slender form and accent- uated the blueness and brightness ol.’ her el'eS, but I cannot say that she appeared anything more than serious. and Mrs. Nokes informed me privately that she was “scandalized by the girl’s want of feeling." “She cried a bit the first night.” the. [landlady explained. “but she seemed all {right next morning. I mean to make her stop inside the house until the fun~ cral.as it would seem so disrespectful to the dead for her to go to hanging about the Royal Arms after you. like as she wanted to. ‘No.’ I says to her. ‘un- til your poor father's decently under ground. here you stop.’ And I gave her baby to mind. But yesterday what did I do but find her in the top room in the wing. She’d set baby and \Villie down on the iloor, and she was actually dan- cing to them in a most heathen way. with. poor Mr. Saxon scarcely cold! Dreadful. I call it, sir. though I don't know how it may strike you, sir." I did not reciprocate the excellent Mrs. Nokes' sentiments; in fact. I al- together failed to see why an intelligent girl of. sixteen should be more than tem- ! porarily shooked and pained by the vio- ilent death of such a father as Horatio l Saxon had been. Possibly. as I admitted I to myself. a girl of very strong feelings might have taken such a loss terribly to heart. in spite of the man's neglect and cruelty; but. then, would any girl of very strong feelings have followed and obeyed and worked for such a fa- ther iii uncomplaining patience for six long years of‘illâ€"fed drudgery? Meanwhile. I had been working in Liâ€" lith’s behalf.. I had visited Rye and dis- covered the small bootmaker and repair- er‘s shop in a fifteenthâ€"century house, with projecting upper stories, kept by John SaXon. first cousin to the dead man. This John Saxon I had found to be a lo- cal character. a Radical. a freethinker. ' and a most argumentative and quarrel- somc little man. whose opinions were as stiff and unyielding as his boots and shoes. and who clearly eyed me with contempt as a “pampered aristocrat” when I bent my head to enter his low- ceilinged. ill-lit shop, smelling of lea- ther and strewn with the implements of [his trade. Mr. John Saxon was dark, short. and ill-favored. He was seated on a wooden l bench when I entered. bullying two boys who assisted him in his business. \Vhen he learned that my errand was not to purchase boots or to have them repairâ€" ed. but was connected with his cousin, Horatio Saxon, his ill temper broke out at once. “An ill weed. that! A spouting, mouthing vagabond, with a lazy, useless chit of a daughter. It’s money. I sup- pose, ’Orace wants. Well. he won't get any from me. I ’ad enough of them last time they were ’ere. Calls ’imself a Conservative. and talks about his wife ’aving been a ladyl, That was always ’Orace‘s way. )Vhen. lie. was , a play- actor. on thirty shillings a week, it was all ’igh and mighty. and too grand for Cousin John. But now he’s a tramp. beggins and cadging at beer shops, and J. under'Cousin John’s root", - " COLT DISTEMPER Can be handled very easily. 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It makes money by keep-' ing produce in good condition until it can be taken to market, or until better prices can be obtained. It ' maintains a cool, even temperature that Keeps Produce Perfect. A concrete root cellar is always dry, clean and sanitary. It is proof against heat, cold, water, fire and rats. Although the greater part of it is underground, it cannot crumble or rot ‘ away. It is permanent and needs no repairs. ' Tell us to send you this handsomely illustrated fre b 1: "What the Farmer can do with Concrete." It conta'iens otl)ic ‘ iullcstinfOi-mation about concrete rest cellars and other farm buildings that never wear out and shows how ' I . on them at» small cost. y can bwld ‘ ii Farmer's Information Bureau. Canada Cement Company Limited 516 Herald Building, Montreal Wearâ€"and stay The inquest had proved a formal and speedily concluded affair. Several wit- nesses testified to the half-drunken con- dition in which Saxon had left the inn at \Vcst Sandliytlie on the evening of his death. Others there were who gave evi- dence as to 111:5 condition when he had - entered the bar of the Rose and Crown VARNI‘S WELL painted or well varnished floor is: a'sanitary floor- easy to keep clean and bright. Floor Paint, or Floor Varnish has to stand the scuff and rough usage. The best Floor Paint for all-round satisfaction is The ma Reliable _ seasons rtoca rarer It’s the “daddy” of them all. “Way back in your grand- father’s time”, SENOUR’S FLOOR PAINT was Standing the wear and tear of pioneer daysâ€"today, it is giving lasting beauty and protection to thousands and thousands of floors. 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