TK* Daily ^©portar.
•Stiall you be tong alter us?" asked
Zillah, who, as I said, was my chamber
companion.
I». C. IRELAND A (’O. fl'BI.ISHKR».
."Áii hour or two,” I replied, turning
away.
McMinnville, Or. - - Fob. 12, 1887
I went and sat uluue in the little par
lor, trying to collect my thoughts. To
any governess the discovery of a clan
destine and unw orthy love-affair among
her pupils would be most painful, but
mv discoveries were all horror together.
The more I thought it over, the more
my agonized pity for Zillah overcame
my grief for lierdec«i|fulness. Love is
AN OLD GOVERNESS’S TALE— always so weak, and girlish love al fif
teen such a fascinating dream. What
FOUNDED ON FACT.
ever I thought of the lieutenant, he was
very attractive to most people. He was,
besides, the first young man Zillah had
ever made acquaintance with, and the
first human living except myself who
BY MIS-> MUI.OCK.
had treated her with kindness. But
But in tills case, at one glance, even what opportunities could they have had
if I had not caught the silly phrase, to become lover»? 1 recollected Zillah's
“Mv anirel!”—the same J .heard in the wanderings, evening after evening, in
woon ian, mat wooaii-0»! ur any one toe ^rounds of the deserted estate. She
would have detected the truth. It came must have met mm there. Poor girl!
upon me like a thunderbolt; but know I could well imagine what it must lie to
ing Zillah’s disposition, I had just wit be wooed under the glamour of summer
enough to glide back unseen, and re-en twilight and beautiful solitude. No
ter, talking loudly at the door. Upon wonder Zillah's heart was stolen away!
which I found the lieutenant tapping —Thinking of this now , 1 feel 1 am
his boots carelessly, and Zillah shrink w rong in saying “heart” of what at best
ing into a corner like a frightened hare. could have lietm mere "fancy." Wom
He went off very soon—he said, to an en’s natures are differ nt; but some
engagement at Belfast, and we started women have been gravely, mournfully,
for our ramble. I noticed that, Zillah fatally in earnest, even at sixteen.
However, in earnest or not, she must
walked along-aide of Caroline, as if she
be snatched from this marriage at all
could not approach or look at me.
I know not whether I was most risks. There could be no doubt of that.
shocked at my poor girl, or puzzled to But to whom should I apply for aid?
think what possible attraction Chis Not to Mr. Le l’oer certainly. The
young man could find in such a mere poor orphan seemed trembling between
child—so plain and awkward-loooking the grasp of either villain, father and
too. That he could he “in love” with son. Whatever must be dope for her
het, eveil in the loWest sense of tha,t I must de rnyiielf of tpy own judg
phrase, deemed'all but an impossibility,' ment,”* áííd on niy own responsibility.
It was a very hard strait forme. In
and if not in love, what possible pur
pose could he have in wooing or Want ‘my necessity I instinctively turned to
ing to marry her?—for L was simple my best friend in the world, aud—as I
enough to suppose that all wooing must suddenly remembered -Zillah's too, 1
determined.U» write and explain all to
necessarily be in earnest.
Half-bewildered with conjectures, Mr. Sutherland.
How well 1 remember that hour! The
fears and doubts as to what course I
must pursue, did 1 walk on beside Ma little parlor quite still and quiet, except
tilda, who, haying quarreled with, her for,the ¡¿lint sound of the'wavers rolling
si st ex. kept elo.se to me. She wentdmtr in; foi it was rather a mild night, and
tering on about some misdoings or Car our siflall one-storied cottage stood by
oline. At last my attention was caught itself in a solitary part of the beach.
How vyell I remember myself! sitting
by hearing Zillah's name.
“I Wotrr bear it always,*’ said the withpttS pen in my bund, uncertain
angry child; “I’ll only bear it till Zillah how to begin; for rfeltiawkward, nev
’.gr yayipg written.>to hiái sino». I was a
comes of age.",
“Bear what?”
“Why, that Carry should always have : At first bxlipbst forgot what I had to
two new frocks to my ofkp. It’» a write, aboilt. While musing. I was
eturÚed by a noise like tb«r opening of
shame!"
“But what has that to say to Zillah’s a window. Now, aa I explained, our
hoUsefWas all onto fiat, and we could
coming of age?"
“Don’t you know. Miss Pryor?—oh, easily step from any window to the
of course you don’t, for Carry wouldn’t beach. In considerable alarm I hurried
let me tell* yoti; but I will!” she added into Zillah's room. There, by the dim
night-light, I saw her bed was emptv.
maliciously,
1 hardly knew whether I was right or Sl^e liad apparently dressed herself fi r
wrong in not stopping the girl’s tongue, I saw none other clothes—and crept out
but I could not do it.
the window. Terrified inexpressibly,
“Do you know.” she added in, a sly, at
I was about to follow’ her, when I saw
whisper, “Carry says we shall all lie the flutter of a ^liawl outside, an^ heard
very rich when Zillah comes of age. Pa ' her voice speaking,
and ma kept ft very secret; but Carry | “No, cousqi—no,dear,cousin! Don't
found it out, and told it to brother Au ask trié. I can’t go away with you to
gustus and to me."
night. It would be very wrong when
“Told wliat?” said I. forgetful that I Misa Pryor knows nothing about it, If
was prying’into a family secret, and she bail found us out or threatened, and
stung into curiosity by the mention pf I we were obliged to run away----- ” (Ini-
Augustus.
j mediately I saw that, with a girl of Zil-
“That Z|l!ah will then be very rich, lab's fierce obstinacy, discovarv would
as her father left her all he had; and I m * most dangerous. 1 put out the light
uncle Henry was a great nabob, because I and kept quite still).
he married an Indian princess and got
“I can’t, indeed I can’t«” pursued Zil
all her money. Now. von see," she con lah’s voice, in answer to some urging
tinued with a cunning smile, shocking which was inaudible; adding, with a
on that young face, “we must be verv childish laugh,“You know Cousin Au
civil to Zillah, and of course sue wifi gustus, it would never do for me to go
give us all her money. Eh, you under mid be married in a cotton dressing-
stand?’’
gown; and Miss I’ryor keeps all my best
I stood aghast. In a moment all > Clothes. Dear Miss Pryor! I would
came clear upon me: the secret of Mr. miii’Ii rather have told her, only you say
suinerianu s giiaiTnanslifp—of his tetter i she would be so much the niore sur
to me intercepted—of the money lately prised and pleased when I came back
sent—of Mr. Le Poer’s anxiety concern i married. And you an? quite sureth.it
ing his niece’s life, and his desire to ¡ she shall always live with us, and never
keep her hidden from the world, lest I return to Yorkshire again?”
she might come to a knowledge of her
Her w ords, so childish, so unconscious
position. The whole wa - a tissue of I of the wrong she was doing, perfectly
crimes. And, deepest crime of all! I startled me. All my romantic notions
now guessed why Lieutenant Augustus i of girlish passion following its own wild
wished, unknown to his father, to en will were put to flight. Here was a
trap her still childish affections, m;irry mere child led away by the dazzle of a
her, and secure al! to himself.
new toy to the brink of a precipice,
I never knew much of the world and j She evidently knew no more of love and
its wickedness; 1 believed all men were marriage than a baby!
like my father or Mr. Sutherland. This I For a little time longer, the wicked
discovery for the time quite dizzied my lover I cannot call him—suitor, urged
faculties. I have not the slightest rec his suit, playing with her simplicity in
ollection of anythin!' more that passed a manner that he must inwardly have
on that sea-side w^lk.except that, com laughed at all the time. He lured her
ing in at the door of the cottage. I to matrimony by puerile pet names,
heard Zillah say in anxious tones, such as "My angel”—bv idle rhapsodies
“What ails Miss Pryor. I wonder?” I and promises of fine Imuses and
had wisdom enough to answer, “Noth i clothes.
ing, my dears!” and sent them all to
“I don’t mind these things at all,”
bed
ooiH poor ZillC.!?. inm>w»*i-
THE HALF-CASTE.
not go wun you. only yoiPsAy tliaCWhen
I aiu married I shall have nothin# to
do, and you will never scold me. and 1
shall have Miss Pryor always near me.
Promise!”
Here wm a pause, until the child’s
simple voice was heard again: “I don’t
like that, cousin. I won’t kiss you
again. Miss Pryor once «aid we ought
never to kiss anybody unless we love
them very much.’-'
“And don't you love me, my adorable
creature?”
“I—I'm not quite sure; sometimes I
love you and sometimes not; but I sup
pose I shall always w’hen we are mar
ried.”
“That blissful day must be very
soon.” said the lieutenant; and I
thought I heard him trying to suppress
a yawn. “Ixjt us settle it at once, my
dear, for it grows late. If you will not
come to-niglit, let me have’ the happi
ness. the entire felicity, of fetching you
to-morrow.”
"No, no,” Zillah answered; “Mias
Pryor will want me to help her to pack.
We leave this day week; let me stay till
the night before, then come for me, and
I'll have my liest frock on, and we can
lie married in time to meet them all be
fore the boat sails the next day.”
In other circumstances I should have
smiled at this child’s idea of marriage;
but now the crisis was far too real and
awful; and the more her ignorance
lightened her own error, the more it in
creased the crime of that bad man who
was about to ruin her peace forever.
A little he tried to reverse her plan
and make the marriage earlier, but Zil
lah was too steady. In the obstinacy
of her character—in the little influence
which, lover as he was, he seemed to
have over her—I found her safeguard,
past and present. It would just allow
me to save her in the only way she
could be saved.
1 listened till I heard her say good
bye to her cousin, creep back into the
dark room through the <q>en window,
and fasten it securely as liefore. Then
I stole away to the parlor, and support
ed by the strong excitement of the mo
ment, wrote my letter to Mr. Suther-
.laiid.
There would be in the six days just
time for the arrival of an answer, or—
himself. I left everything to him,
merely.stating the facts, knowing he
would do right. " At midnight I went to
bed. Zillah was fast asleep. As I lay
awake, hour after hour, I thanked
Heaven that the pom* child, deluded as
siie has been knew nothing of what
love was in its reality. She was at least
spared that sorrow.
During all the week I contrived to
keep Zillah as near me as was possible,
consistent with the. necessity of not
awaking her suspicions. This was the
more practicume, as sne see>iied to
cling to me with an unwonted and even
painful tenderness. The other girls
fTumbled sadly at our departure; but
uckily all had been definitely ar
ranged by their father, who had even,
strange to »ay, given me money for the
journey. He had likewise gracefully
apologized for being obliged to let us
women-kind travel alone, as he had
himself some business engagements,
while his son had lately rejoined his
regiment. I really think* the deceiving
and deceived father fully credited the
latter fact. Certainly they were a
worthy pair!
I made all my plans secure, and
screwed up my eourage as well as I
could; but I own on the evening previ
ous to our journey—the evening which,
from several attesting proofs, I knew
was still fixed for the elopement—I be
gan to feel a good deal alarmed. Of
Mr. Sutherland there waH no tidings. At
twilight I saw plainly that the sole
hope must lie in my own presence of
mind, niy influence over Ziliah, and my
ap|>eal to her sense of honor and affec
tion. I sent the children early to bed,
iving I had letters to write, and pre
pared myself for whatever was to hap
pen.
Now many may think me foolish,
and at times I thought myself so like-
w ise, for not going to Zillah and telling
h ?r ull I had discovered; but I knew
her chai icier better than that. The
dea of b ing betrayed, waylaid, con
trolled, would drive her fierce Eastern
t ature into th«» very eommission of the
madness she conti in plat d. tn every
thing I must trust to the impulse of the
moment and to the n suit of her aud-
dt niy discovering her own position and
the villainous plans laid against her.
Never in my life do I remember a
more anxi( us hour than that 1 spent
sitting in tne dark by the parlor win
dow; whence, myself unseen, I could
see all that passed without the house:
for It was a lovelv night, the moon
hitrh ud over the Lough, and making
visible the Antrim mils. 1 think ib all
momenta of great peril one growaquiet:
so did I.
At eleven there was a sound of wheels
on the beach, and the shadow of a man
passed the window. 1 looked out. It
was the most iinromantic and common
place elopement with an heiress; he
was merely going to take her uway on
an outside car. There was no one with
him but the carman, who was left
whistling contentedly on the shore.
The moment had come; with the en
ergy of desperation, I put off the shawl
in which 1 had wrapped myself iu case
1 had to follow the child, for follow-'
her I had determined to do. were It
necessary. Quietly, and with as ordi
nary a manner as I oould assume, I
walked into Zillah’s room.
She was just stepping from the win
dow on to the beach. She hail on her
best frock and shawl, poor Innocenti
w ith her favorite white bonnet, that t
Iuid lately trimmed for her, carefully
tied up in a kerchief.
I touched her shoulder. “Zillah,
w here are you going?”
She started and screamed.
“Tell me; I must know!" I repealed,
holding her fast by the arm. while Au
gustus rather roughly pulled her by the
other.
“Cousin, you hurt met” she cried,
and instinctively drew back- Then,for
the first time the lieutenant saw me.
I have often noticed that cunning and
deceitful people—small villains, not
great ones—are always cowards. Mr.
Augustus drew buck as if he find bean
shot. I took no notice of him, but stdl
avnealed to Zillub.
To be Continued.
Advertisments, etc., intended for
publication in The Weekly Reporter
must be handed in Tuesday morning.
We.cannot in future deviate from thia
rule.
FIREMAN'S FAIR
Garrison Opera House,
Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday,
February 22d, 23d and 24th,
1887.
LIST OF PRIZES.
There will be prizes given on the following
named exhibits:
1st and 2d prize for best and 2d best ex
hibit of Kensington painting.
1st and 2d prize, for beet and 2d best ex
hibit of Kensington embroidery.
1 st and 2d prize, for best mid 2d best ex
hibit of outline work by a child under 14
years of age.
1st and 2d best, for best and 2d best ex
hibit of work of any kind by a boy under 14
years of nge.
let Rnd 2d prize, for best and 2d best ex
hibit of crayon work.
There will also be h prize given for the
heaviest, lightest and prettiest baby under 1
year of sge.
Following fan list of prize« offered: Forth»
prettiest baby, gold necklace; lightest and
heaviest baby under one year of age, each a
' gold ring; outline work by a child under
fourteen years, first prize, ear rings, second
prize, si rap book; Kensington embroidery,
first priz< napkin ring, second prize, box
| writing pn|M»r; kensington painting, first
prize, manicure set, second prize, bracket:
ora von work, first prize, paper holder, second
prize, pitcher; boy’s work, first prize, paper
holder, second prize, inkstand.
Parade of Firemen Tuesday af
ternoon.
Doorn will be open at 7 o’clock,
p. in. dally, «luring tlie
Fair.
—All are invited to Attend—
Admission 25 Cents.
By Order of
C ommitter .