The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1865-03-08

first to forgive me-forgive me and come
to me. Next week I 60 to Brooklyn for
visit to Aunt Elsie. VIII you come
there, No 10, s. street, and see your
OLIVE"
She did not know the special address,
so she wrote upon the envelope simply,
mRichard Brown, New York" sealed it
with her own little Scotch motto seal of
''Dtnaa torget,* and laid it By with a
sigh of relief, for mailing on the morrow.
The next day the letter was duly
The law Office Of Brown & Burleigh
was very quiet. The DO0k- keeper was at
bis desk and the two copying clerks at
theirs Mr.. Brown stood gazing thought
fully from the window, and Mr.. Burleigh
was in Court. One would naturally
think that Nr. Browns intensely occu-
pied mind was intent upon some law case.
+ Not So Instead he gas saying over and
over to himself, IL wish I could see
Olive" and lie was actually
"Lougiuc 10 escare from study.
To the fair young face ana ruddy,
And the thousand charms belonging
To the summer day.
/ Very impractical Of lawyer Brown, but
very natural, thus to stand dreaming Of
little rosy checked, blue.eyed damsel-
far of, she Vas-the autumn day so cool
and suited to the mental labor of his pro.
fassion. But lawyer Browns thoughts
would not stay in his Office in New York,
but went wandering over the harvest
field of a c0uatTy estate.
All at once there came Z steady tread
upon the stairs, and In a moment a pen.
NJ y-Postman entered and deposited upon
Mr. Browns table number Of letters
fresh from the afternoon mail.
Mr. Brown was . grave leisurel7 man.
He looked at every one of the letters be-
fore opening any, and finally examined
one quite curiously.
a Iady's hand-maiIed at C.
Why, who in the world"
He tore it open,
1T cant be from Olive" be thought.
"The careless little witch don't write as
well as this, I'll be bound Why It is
beTs. Signed Olive as sure as fate"
He perused It carefully and smiled He
was a grave man Of forty, and even bis
smile was q grave smile.
Foolish little sensitive p1ss," he so.
E,oauized. "To think Of being c7ieved
at such a t1iHe. l never should have
thought Of It again in the world. What
strange creatures women are. See her
at Brooklyn? ? Of course. [ did not know
she had an aunt there, though"
Mr. Brown had occasion to leave the
Office a few moments later. Passing
through Nassau street be run nearly
against 4 young man who was walking as
fast as himself.
"Nr. Brown
"Mr. Brown"
Il beg your pardon"
Not at all. l beg yours"
"Tbank you. 4 fine day"
every fine"
The other Mr. Brown had black eyes
and brown cur!s, aud a plain. proud, fine,
youthful face Of his own. The black eyes
were very soft, and little sad after the
first flush Of surprise had passed A
splendid fellow, His name also was
Richard My reader of course seizes the
connection, discovers the coincidence and
anticipates the story.
Olive Hudson was in Brooklyn, at The
Of her aunt, Mrs Elsie Grant.
The old lady's last daughter had just
married and left the paternal roof, and
Mrs. Grant had sent for her favorite
neice to spend a month with her, and
relieve the quiet and solitude of the old
house. 1t was a marvel Of beauty to
Olive, brought up among the simple ar
Of the country, She had
fine tastes, and the Persian carpets, vel
vet lounges, and dauask draPery we're
sources Of quiet pleasure 70 her She liked
luxury as well as any one in the world,
though she never complained az the ab-
sence fit. But 10 hour which she spent
in her aunt's beautiful parlors, or at the
theatres Iecturerooms or opera houses of
New York, were half so much valued BY
her as were. some little moments she had
known iu her simple country home, one
year before.
One OF the clearest and fairest Of the
last October days, she sat alone in the
luxurious front parlor, looking abssntly
out at the windows and then idly at the
plates of the book she held upon her lap.
Of course she was thinking Of Richard
Brown-wondering if he had received
her Ietter-hopiDg that be wonld come
really waiting aud listening for his CON-
ing. Twice she had been startled By the
ringing of the door-bell tha: afternoon,
vet still she sat with feverisb cheeks and