The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1865-07-24

call thought you would have been sure to
have gone to England, or forgotten all about
u.s. Sit down here, and let me tell you all
about those horrid railway people.
/ sympatbized with her, and wished had
been there. of course, as / listened to a story
of a trunk which was near being put on to
the wrong train, and as the conversation
tagged. [ felt my forehead getting hotter still,
Paris was so CLOSELY l think she guessed
wby twiddled my hat and brushed it the
wrong way; for she looked shy too, but more
beautiful than ever. 1t was getting painful; /
twiddled my hat harder than ever. don't
believe | should ever have spoken another
word, but she recovered her presence of mind
first, and began again.
| 'Ohl you must let me show you my photo
| graphs: they are SO lovely; l got them in
Geneva Here is the dear old Dent de Midi.
There is one somewhere of the funny old con-
| vent we went together to see on the other side
OF the Rhone, on your last day. You remem-
Der my slipping as we were clambering up on
to the marble rock behind the garden, to peep
at the nuns? You don't know how bad my
ankle was afterwards. did not get out at all
The day you went, and could not even come
| down to dinner. 1t is so horTid and lonely be-
ing laid up in an i'm, with no one to care for
you. did get SO low spirited. / did not
know bit how lame was till tried to go up
stairs again after you had gone
turned over the photographs, and stared
Dlndly at them wrong ways upwards, as she
paused. 1t must come sooner or later thought.
she dropped her eyes, and looked frightened,
as blurted out, perhaps we win never see
one another again"
Her breath came quickly, and she looked
up timidly and smiled. l was reckless now,
and ran on.
Il can't go to England without telling you
what III No, mol don't say
anything yet. never told you'll would not
all that happy time-that am on my way
nome to take possession of my place in Shrop-
shire. l want-I-p
could not say another word; all my cour-
age was gone; and / stood more sheepish than
ever, She had come to the rescue again, and
looking up at me with her big eyes, said:
You come from Shropshire? How extraor-
binary that l should never have found that out
beforel Pm Shropshire too. wonder wheth-
er you are anywhere near my old home, Sur
neauxp
'Oh dear, oh dear what is the matter q-Are
you i'll ll?-Shall ring? Oh, do speak, Don't
look SO flor my sake. Ohp
What was the matter? Only my chest had
been bulged in, and driven up to my mouth
that was all. What was the matter?
Her dear old home Surneauxt Good heay-
ems! Yes, my mothers name-my grandfath-
er's-was SMITH
AACA uCdl Olu AOlut OuIutauA! linen my an
gel was the old mans baby wife / had heard SO
much of
Her dear old home Surneauxi Good heay-
ems! And man may not marry his grand
motheri
We were both calmer soon, and 1 said let
me kiss you, grandmamma"
doubt whether grandmother was ever more
touched then she was as l threw my arms
around her; and must it be told) cried like
baby. 1t was not manly dare say; but no one
saw 1t but Suzette, who came in without knock
ing, and was going to throw jug full of water
over us but | saw her in time.
My old friend has the rectory at the bottom
OF the park, and go there every day; for it
does me good to see his rosy wife and romp
with his little girl.
There is no nursery at Surneaux
am deputy lieutenant, and man of note
IN the country; but the chair opposite mine in
the old drawing-room is never used except
when grandmamma is with me.
She often comes; but we never speak ofthe
happy days in Switzerland, and neither of US
has been there SINCE
II. S. Since writing this grandmamma has
come down with her younger sister. She is
very agreeable; and barring the weeds, re-
minds me much ofwhat G.. M. was when we
first met.