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Updated: May 3, 2025
The clapping and stamping had not ceased ere a man was noticed pushing his way through the crowd to the front of the hall. As he mounted the platform the noise suddenly stopped, for all were much surprised to see Stephen Frenelle standing there. Never before had he been known to do such a thing, especially at a political meeting. What could he have to say? All wondered.
You know I read to Nora whenever I can, but this need not interfere with that. And, oh, father, Stephen was here this afternoon, and he's in great trouble." "What's wrong, dearie?" questioned the parson, as Nellie paused and a deep flush suffused her face. "The Frenelle homestead is to be sold." "What! do I understand you aright?
For a while Tony was stubborn, but in the end Stephen led him off in triumph. Supper was ready, and Mrs. Frenelle gave the visitor a hearty welcome, and in his own quaint way he told of his work in the woods, and his experience on the drive. "I feel like a new man," he said, rising from the table. "I was about tuckered out. Now I'm ready fer that bizness up yon.
The first opportunity he seized when he met the parson at the blacksmith shop, waiting for his horse to be shod. "Well, Parson, are ye goin' to sell the farm?" he asked in a sort of careless manner. "What farm?" was the reply. "Oh, the Frenelle place." "No; it's not for sale." "Well, is that so? Money's tight these times, an' I thought mebbe ye'd he glad to get rid of it." "No.
How could she ever hold up her head again? she wondered. How the women would talk! And then to think that Si was in danger of losing the election, all on account of this Stephen Frenelle. What business had he to interfere? It was no concern of his. She watched everything which took place, and listened eagerly to each word.
They had come a long distance, for an auction such as this was a most unusual occurrence in Glendow. The Frenelle homestead had belonged to the family from the early Loyalist days, descending from father to son for several generations.
Stephen always promised to do better, but in the end continued the same as before. At last the awakening came, sudden and terrible. The bank account had been overdrawn to a considerable extent, and payment was demanded. The only thing to do was to mortgage the farm, and with a heavy heart Mrs. Frenelle signed the pledge of death to the dear homestead.
Each had contributed something to the improvement of the land, but it remained for Peter Frenelle, Stephen's father, to bring it under an excellent state of cultivation. A clear-headed, hard-working man, he had brought his scientific knowledge, acquired by careful study, to bear upon the soil, until his broad, rich acres, free from stone, became the envy and admiration of the parish.
The auctioneer waited for Farrington to increase his bid. The men almost held their breath in the excitement of the moment, and Mrs. Frenelle moved a step nearer with her hands firmly clasped before her. "Four thousand dollars," the auctioneer spoke slowly and impressively now. "Any advance on four thousand dollars?
At first a great rage filled her heart at the thought of Stephen Frenelle talking in such a way to her husband. But when the papers had been read her anger was changed to fear, which was much increased by Farrington's excited condition. She realized that he was placed in an unenviable position, but thought not so much of the meanness of his deed as of what the neighbours would say.
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