THE NEW OWNER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 61, 19 October 1907, Page 4

THE NEW OWNER.

"Well," whispered Marion io me. 'I guess is doesn't make any difference if we did have to wear .-silk gowns that you washed, turned, mended and made Guess what 1 just heard." "W hat did you just hcii'J" I asked, "\\ hy," proceeded .Marion, delightedly, "1 was standing over by those ferns a minute ago, and just round the corner I heard .Mrs Lewis say to Claudio Brooks: "i don't see how the liareourt girls manage to dress so well,* and C'laudie—spiteful old thing—said: '1 thing they ought to be ashamed; everybody knows i they eau't afford it/ But just then ' that jjrand looking Mr Maxwell eamo over to them, and it wasn't two minutes before I heard him ask who that striking girl with the led roses iu her hair was. That was you, Eleanor. Xow, aren't you flattered':" "Dreadfully," i answered. "Anything ! more'!"

"Ves, indeed," whispered Marion. "The best of all was. that he asked right

away if you weio one of the liareourt- : who had owned the old pla;e up lowa.

an.! he a.-ked h'T—Oxk look!'" Marion's volubility was cluvked at lit'.- point by tho app"aram'" of tli" already mentiom-d Mr Mawvell with our leil l.:s oil his arm. lie was a grave, handsome man. about -0. I thought. and a Her Mr b-wk had nr.nsrnied him hj"

I s:,t downJi.'-ide li:.-. ii" had talked I al)"ii( a good many things, and had rl--1 wearied oi my monosyllable replies. 1 fancy. win ii ha linaily brought up Uarcourl, and ! proceeded to astonish him by forgeiting ihat we were su\inger-y. and telling him the ma-:i ridiculous things u ilh eharacterb-lie reck1 told him how we. Marion and 1, went a round about way to avoid passing the dear old place, and how, when there was no way out of it, w went by with our heads turned awnv, because we loved it so. 1 told him we had been born there, and that every big room and every dingy panel brought up a memory that we loved. And it was not until Marion came for me to go home that 1 realised that he had listened to me silently for about an hour, and that .Mrs Lewis was angry with me for monopolising the lion or the evening. T went home terribly asand convinced that, notwithstanding that lie lookoft very sympathetic, he was probably shocked.

['.lit come days later, after Mr Maxwell called with Mrs l.ewis ami was so nice, i guess lie didn't mind after all. And iu tiie weeks following lie eanie frequently and we met at several ]ilae' s. Somehow 1 tolil that man everything— I couldn't seem to help it. lie always knew just when to smile, and T never said a silly tiling to cover up a deeper feeling in all those weeks that 1 did not see sympathy and understanding in his face. Well, it was a pleasant time, as I remember it, and 1 got to thinking a good deal al>out him and to liking him very much. There was only one thing to dampen our pleasure. One day the news eanie to us that Mr Oitlin, who held a mortgage upon Ilarcourt. had sold it to strangers, and Marion and 1 told ourselves that from that time our claim upon it would be only that of ant other outsider, who might look at its dear old walls and pass it by. As I

say, this darkened our lives a lit tic. but there were still Mr Maxwell's visits to look forward to. so it was worth while existing. But oitfe evening when he called lie said: "Miss Eleanor, 1 am going away to-morrow, and I waul you to do something for me. Will you?" '1 don't know," I answered in a low voice. Somehow 1 couldn't for the life of me manage anything else. But he. didn't seem to notice that I said nothing about regretting his going away. i!e simply asked nie if 1 would go down to Hareourt with him. 1 was too miserable to resist, and we went.

My heart beat heavily as we walked up the dear old oak avenue, and when we had mounted the broad steps and opened the door I could not sec # fho familiar dim old hall because my eves were blinded with tears. "Oh, well," thought I, as I stealthily dried them away, "you're a dear old place, but you're nothing to me now, and I've got no right to cry about you." But later, when we went up to the long hall above and found that some impatient person had removed our few remaining pieces of old furniture and had hung now paintings there over crimson hangings, I felt T couldn't stand any more. "What does this mean?" 1 cried.

"The purchaser hopes to live here," explained Mr Maxwell, "and lie is gettiii'jr it ready for occupancy." Here, 1 suppose, the poor man was bewildered enough, for I had restrained myself as long as J could, and 1. rushed to the one place where the hated crimson did not cover the panels, laid my head against their friendly support and burs* out crying. ''Oh. why did you bring me here?" 1 said. "I can't stand everything. T would rather have this old place burned to the ground, with only the poor old chimney left to show where it stood, than to see it fitted with the most beautiful things in the world by stranger-. Everything I care about turns out wrong." I concluded with a sigh. "I am i popped, frozen with horror. What, had I said! But Norman Maxwell suddenly put me into the window seat ami sat down be-id' x me. "Klcanor. look at

me." l»i» stvitl. 1»mI I f-oukln't 1 ift my licml. so lie puf bund inidcr my reluctant chin, and turn--0)1 inv fsH'c iiiwartl hiin. ''Klcanor/' hj? wnii' on, "flun'l yon know Vvo Invcd ymi all the tinn*. and that 1 was f.n»injj away wiili a luMdache. tint you <li<l not f, aiv ior ni(;? Don't you l iU'v. a lit th- moiv about mo than for an ordinary friond?' > t t'xclaimrd, very imu-b afraid tliat my siupirlilv had forced him into it. u f shouldn't liavt- said—l didn't mean 1o " Hnl lie put him arm? around me and then I knew it wasn't ItceaU'C of what I had si id.

Well. T was happy that T cried and laughed iu niv own ridiculous and when we wont home Marion say* it w ; i- dillieult to tell which he?uned hri-rhtest, my ryes or my no?i\ r.nl X think 1 liavc' wept the h<\ sorry tears 1 -dull I'Vi-r >ln»d, for the best man in tho world Ikh liou-lif llareniirt for me. and it U to be our home when we ale married.— 80-ton Post.