That boy Teddy.

Manawatu Herald, Volume III, 18 June 1891, Page 4

That boy Teddy.

» » ing voices in the room, Teddy ventured t6 raise himscif, and, peering over the top of .he screen, beheld seated in the easy-chair the figure of Mr Heatherlie, and, as Teddy lovingly contemplated bis face, it seemed to him that it looked very different — it was so much older, and thinner, ay, and sadder too. At his feet, with her bright head resting against his knee, and her tender eyes uplifted to his handsome face, knelt Miriam, and Teddy saw that she had been crying. Feeling somehow that he had no right to be there, Teddy fell barU on the couch, not knowing very well what to do, but afraid to reveal his presence. So, scarcely daring to breathe, he lay in guilty silence, listening against his will to what was being told on the other side, of the screen. "I cannot bear, Will, that, you should suffer so on my account," Miriam said with a break in her gentle voice. "Do not seek to go back to that cruel wilderness of London. Now that you have come back, go to Heatherlie Honour and tell your father that he was right and you were wrong." " You would make a pitiful coward of me, Miriam," said Will, with strange bitterness of tone. " Could you give me up so easily, then ?" " Never mind me, Will. I love you so well that I conld bear anything for your sake. And after a time perhaps you would forget me, and find another mistress of Heatherlie Honour, one whom your father would delight in and approve." " If you love me as you say, Miriam, you will be content to wait till my prospects brighten," said Will, quietly but firmly. " Believe me, dear one, lam really making some progress. They are beginning to read my manuscripts, and to comment upon them before they return them. The editor of the Quarterly promised to look favourably at my bundle of social sketches, and if he accepts them my way will be fairly opened up." Miriam was silent, only a bursting sob broke from her gentle lips, telling how her heart was wrung with pain. " There is only one condition upon which I would go back to Heatherlie Honour, Miriam, and that is when my father comes here and formally acknowledges youafemy promised wife." "Then I fear it will be never, Will," said the girl, drearily. "Ob, Will, you have given up too much for me ! lam not worthy such a sacrifice. Let me go ere is too late." "Never, never while I live," was Will's fervent response. " Whatever be the faults and failings of the Heatherlies— and they are many — they remain true to their plighted word." There was a long silence after that. Little jreamed the pair of the breathless listener liehind the screen, who, though he could :iot quite understand all they said, still gathered from their talk quite enough to satisfy him that they were very unhappy, and that Mr Heatherley's father was to blame. These facts, to a fertile genius like small Teddy Ford, were sufficient. By and by Mrs Ford returned from her call-making, and in the middle of the. greetings which ensued Teddy escaped unnoticed to the nursery, and, to Kitty's astonish, ment, began to count over the penniesta his money-box. ■. .-•.-. • *^88r 11 How many pennies have you, Kitty ?" he queried, wistfully. . -v*. "I have four and twopence," responded Kitty. •• '":. " Would that be enough to take you to Bridgeley, suppose you wanted to go?" asked Teddy, mentioning the name of a station several miles beyond Heatherlie. "Of course, it's only two shillings there and back ; but if you want to get something for mamma for Christmas, there's lovely things in Fraser's — I saw them yesterday — quite as good as good as any at Bridgeley." " All right," said Teddy, with exemplary meekness. He had learned all he desired to know. 111. In the gloomy library at Heatherlie Honour sat its master on the afternoon of [a dull December day. Already the long shadows of the wintry twilight were falling about him, and seemed to touch tenderly the drooping figure and the poor old white head bent dejectedly upon his hands. A year had done its work upon the proud master of Heatherlie Honour. Long, long ago he had repented him of his harshness to his boy, but the pride of him would not allow him to stir one foot in the right direction. Miriam Ford did not know how often the Master of Heatherlie Honour had driven up Hatton Place in the hope that he might catch a glimpse of her, that he might ask a solitary question concerning the absent one who loved her so well. So day after day the proud, miserable old man endured the agony of hope deferred, living in each hour a lifetime of suspense-, for he knew not whether his one son were alive or dead. A year ago that very day, ay, almost that very hour, he had spurned him , fijom his presence, casting him forth from heart and home with bitter words, the memory of which now stabbed him to the heart. While he sat thus in the gloomy reverie which was so seldom interrupted, there was a knock at the door, followed by the entrance of a servant. " I did not ring for lights, Annie/ 1 said the master, somewhat irritably. " No, Sir William. I beg pardon for in-truding,-jbut there is a; child at the door who wishes to see you, and who says he will not go away until he sees you," said the girl, respectfully. : " Mason has my orders to give all paupers, especially children, something substantial to eat," said the master, wearily. i The girl smiled. 11 Oh, sir, it is not a pauper, but a genteel child— a little boy— quite a little gentleman." '■' " And he wishes to see me? Well, well, light the gas, and bring in the child. It is very odd, I'm sure." The girl hastened to obey, and in ,a few minutes returned with the persistent caller to the lighted room. " This is the little boy, sir," she said, and at once withdrew. . , Sir William turned slowly round, and looked with curious interest into the sweet, round, rosy face, lit by the earnest eyes, which were fixed upon him as if they would lead his very soul. .*' " Well, my little man 1" he said, with that rare kindliness he knew so well how to express ; " what can Ido for you ? Anything particular, eh?" < Still the child's eyes pursued ther questioning gaze, which began to make the old gentleman a trifle nervous. , "Why do you look at me so intently, child? Is there anything strange about me?" " No ; I think you look awful nice, almost as nice as grandpa," quoth the strange visitant, with charming candour, and then he smiled as if something very pleasant occurred to his small mind. " Suppose you tell me who your nice, grandpa is, and who you are," said the old gentleman, coaxingly, for the child amused and mystified him. "I'm Teddy Ford. I live in Hatton Place, Sleaford ; and I've come all by myself here to see you, to ask for something," was the young gentleman's prorrpt response. Sir William visibly started. (To be continued.)