The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1859-09-22
Mrs. Leroy opened her ey

widely, but was too wcll.bred to OK.
press surprise, and after Introducing
mo TO her husband in the same terms
invited me into tho house. Hardly
conscious Of what did, or anything
except that was still in the presence
Of Florence, from which could not
endure to Danish myself, followed
them into handsome parlor, where
sat an old lady, whom my conscience
told me was the rheumatic aunt ! had
so cruelty belicd. Florence herself
presented me to this lady, who was
n fixture and unable to rise from her
chair, and before | could stammer an
apology and retire, she related, in her
own way (how different from mine.)
the mistake by which she had been
placed in my care, and history Of our
journey, in which it appeared our
host, MIR. Leroy, had been fellow
passenger. When she had ended they
all crowded about me, warmly cx.
pressing lhanks.lor my kindness and
consideration" to my utter bewildcr-
ment and surprise, and made the ac.
quaintance ofmy namesakes and fam,
lily.
detached myself from all this un-
expected kindn's soon as | could, |
iancied ! read aversion in the flush.
ing and paIcing face and dropping
eyes of Florence, and with one last
look at her, left the room. A moment
after, | felt the touch of light hand
on my arm, and turning, saw, with
much surprise, that she had followed
me into the vestibulc.
"Mr. Leroy" she said hurriedly, 81
cannot let you go away misunder-
standing me as | see you do. I'll was
silent while you so humbly apo'ogiz.
ed for the noble, generous, and honor
able delicacy of your conduct, it was
not from anger, believe me, but be-
cause | was first too much moved and
grateful TO speak. owe you more
than can say, and should be misera-
bic, indeed, if u false shame, which
you see has not prevented my ceiling
you this should prevent you from con,
lnuing an acquaintance SO strangely
begun. Trust me, sir, | speak the
truth"
| d MT know what answer | made,
for the revolution Of feeling was al.
most too great for words and the rap
ture Of knowing, as | looked down into
that lovely face that it was not for the
last time, quite took away the little
sense | had remaining.
1t you want to know how felt, ask
man who is going to be hung, how
he would feel to be rcprieved,
Well, how time flies. 1t CERTAINLY
does nor seem five years since all this
happened, yet cousin Jenny (my cous
in Jenny now) SO bitterly reproaches
US in our last letter, for not visiting
her in all that time, we have again un-
dcrlaken the journey, bat under diff
tcrent, auspices since Florence is
Florence Dundard no more, and sleeps
upon my arm in the cars no more
bushingIy, but with the confidence of
a wife of nearly five years standing,
and | registered our names in the ho-
tel books as "Mr. and Mrs. LcRoy,'
and blessed my lucky stars as | read
it over. Even while | write, Florence
lovelier than ever, as think, makes a
grand prttence of arl anged our lag
gage at the hotel where we stop, (and
which has reminded me by past trans
actions, to write down this story or
comes leaning over me to call me
dear Chester" instead of "dear cous.
in Frank" as five years before, and to
scold me for being so stupid as to sit
and write, instead of talking with her.
Was ever a man 50 happy in Il a"Slght
Mistake"