Read Ebook: Daisy Ashford: Her Book by Ashford Angela Ashford Daisy Cobb Irvin S Irvin Shrewsbury Commentator

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Ebook has 1243 lines and 44895 words, and 25 pages

John Winston had entered into manhood with every prospect of a bright and brilliant future.

His parents had died leaving him a nice little legacy and a great deal of land for farming But with all this good fortune, things did not seem to go right with him.

To begin with, he was idle and did not care for farming, so he let land waste away till it was good for nothing, and was forced to sell it. He then encountered a severe loss of money, and by degrees sank lower and lower in the world till he at last found himself a penniless man with barely enough to keep a roof over his head.

His only resourse then was marriage. There were plenty of rich girls about whose parents would be glad to find a suitable husband for them. John Winston was suitable enough, for he was good looking, witty, and had a certain amount of good sense; but his kind heart would not allow him to fall in love with these girls merely on account of their riches, so had to look out for someone he really loved.

During these explorations he met Helen Carline, a young girl, poor, and with no relations in the world. She was wondrously pretty with a profusion of fluffy golden hair and sad blue eyes which spoke all their thoughts.

Of course John Winston fell in love with her at once and proposed accordingly. After a little hesitation she accepted and John Winston's joy was beautiful to witness.

The married couple took a little cottage on the outskirts of the Malvern Hills and engaged one servant Jane Marshland, by name, about whom we shall hear more later on.

In the spring of the following year a little girl was born as a crowning joy to the young husband and wife.

But three months afterwards Mrs. Winston died of fever, which she caught when visiting a gipsy encampment near her home. So at an early age, little Helen, was left without a mother, but she lacked no love or tenderness, for Mr. Winston's only care was for his beloved child, and Jane Marshland now the nurse, did every thing she could for the child's health and comfort.

Mr. Winston had to give up his dear little home, and retire with Jane and his baby to lodgings in London till he heard of some employment.

At last he found something not very satisfactory, but as nothing else offered he decided to take it. It was to perform the office of hangman in a small country town in Hants by the name of Kenalham.

It was not a nice position to be in certainly, and Mr. Winston's nerves were not strong, but the payment was good, and after all only about two people were hung a year at Kenalham.

So with a sinking heart Mr. Winston packed up his goods and departed with his child and servant to the little cottage in Kenalham, already furnished for him. It was a nice little house and Mr. Winston smiled as he entered the drawing room, "after all" he said to Jane, "so few people are hung here that nearly all my time will be devoted to my darling Helen," and he kissed the rosy face of the child.

So, now having explained the position of my story I will skip over a few years and go on again at the time when Helen had grown up into a charming sweet mannered girl.

THE COTTAGE BY THE HILL

The little village of Kenalham was situated in the south of Hants and lay at the bottom of some picturesquely grouped hills.

No river watered the little town, but a broad stream wound through the neighbouring medows giving a rich green shade to the grass on its banks; the high green hills stood out clear and tall against the blue sky, and the ruins of an old castle on the top of one of the heights gave a strange weird appearance. To add to the strangeness of this little scene, at the bottom of the very hill on which the ruins stood was a villa of the modern kind nestling amidst a woody dell of beach trees. This was no other than the residence of Mr. John Winston and his daughter Helen, and it went by the name of "Beach Dale."

It was a charming little house and had the preveleage of possessing a beautiful view both back and front. The front looked out across miles of woodland scenery with no sign of human inhabetance any where safe a single cottage which stood out like a white speck among the greenness which surrounded it.

The back looked out on the lovely blue hills, and far away in the distant loomed the white cliffs of Portsmouth.

Having now given the reader a correct idea of the surroundings of "Beach Dale" I will endevour to describe Helen Winston.

At the time my story opens, our heroine was a charming young lady of nineteen years. She had an abundance of dark brown, almost black hair, curling gracefully over her forehead. Her beautiful brown eyes were headed by well marked eye brows of a lovely black; her complexion was like that of a blush rose and her pretty little nose and mouth added to the charm of her features.

Here character I will leave to be found out and only say that she was passionately fond of her father and devoted all her life solely to him.

Trouble and care had made Mr. Winston look old before his time. He was only 54, yet his hair and beard were completely grey. He had a kind quiet face and blue eyes, he had a rather wide mouth with a nervous twitch at each corner. He fully returned his daughter's love and considering he had taught her entirely himself she was comparatively cleaver girl.

THE SECRET SAFE

During all the years Mr. Winston had lived in Kenalham he had only made one friend a Mr. Cyril Sheen. He was thirty years of age and a bachelor. He too had no friends in the village but Mr. Winston, so he was constantly at "Beach Dale." He was very fond of Helen and had often attempted to make love to her, but she was so completely innocent of his intentions that he felt quite bashful and dare not begin.

One morning, early in May, Mr. Winston and his daughter were just finishing their breakfast when Marshland came in with a letter which she handed to her master.

"A letter?" said Mr. Winston opening his eyes, "who can it be from?"

"Business, father I'm sure" replied Helen with a smile.

"I think not" said Mr. Winston wisely and he proceeded to tear open the envelope and persue its contents.

As he read the letter his face became first thoughtful, then puzzled and then it broke into a smile and lastly Mr. Winston burst into a fit of laughter and took a sip of his untasted tea. He then turned to his daughter for the first time.

"Do you know who this is from, Helen?" he said.

"No father I don't" answered Helen.

"Perhaps it will need a little explanation" replied Mr. Winston. "You have heard me speak of your cousins the Lincarrols haven't you?"

"Oh yes I know" said Helen "they are very rich aren't they?"

"Yes" said Mr. Winston slowly, "very."

"Well father what about them?" said Helen.

"Did I ever mention Gladys to you," enquired Mr. Winston.

"Oh yes" said Helen, "she is the pretty one isn't she?"

"Yes she is quite the "flower of the flock" I belive" replied Mr. Winston; "the others are decidedly plain."

"Well what about Gladys?" enquired Helen.

"Well she is going to be married shortly, and so she proposes coming here next week for a little while and bring her future husband with her. What do you say to that?" asked Mr. Winston.

Helen's pretty face was beaming with novelty and pleasure.

"How lovely father" she gasped; I do hope she will be nice."

"What about a bedroom for her?" said Mr. Winston.

"Oh! there's the little attic in the loft" replied Helen. "I'm sure that is good enough."

"What about the furniture for it? at present it is completely bare and full of cobwebs," said Mr. Winston.

"I forgot about that," said Helen. "Well she can Have the best bedroom."

"Yes" said Mr. Winston "but where is the young man to go?"

"What young man?" said Helen.

"James Palsey" said Mr. Winston referring to the letter in his hand.

Helen's face fell and her eyes filled with tears. "I'm afraid father" she said "we shall have to refuse them, for if the attic has to be used I certainly have no money to furnish it with and I know you have not."

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