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

T ODCe again lUl maHy llHSe sue Upeu6u ll
and looked earnestly at the face within
a frank. proud face, with irregular fea-
lures, very soft black eyes and clustering
hair.
Il wonder if Dick has changed any in
a year" she said to herself
+ Suddenly there came a sharp, quick
ring at the door She ssrang to her feet
her heart was leaping and bounding
Ike frightened bird. She listened to
the servant going through the hall and
unlocking the door. Than came the
sound of 4 mans voice.
as Miss Pinkney in ?"
There is 20 ouc Of that name stopping
here, sir, said the servant respectfully.
"Isn't Miss P;nkney stopping here :"
"No, sir"
"Isn't this No. 40 ?"
at is, sir"
isn't it Mrs. Elsie-or, ah, l don't
know the name p
"AIrs Elsie Grant lives here, sir. This
is her house"
"Well, isn't Miss Pinkney expected
here ?"
Il think not, sir"
/ Then came a long pause of perplexity !;
evidently the gentleman was distressed,
perplezed and disappointed. Olive stood
listening attentiveiy just within the par
lor door Said the gentleman at last:
II had a note from Miss Pinkney last
week and she Informed me that she
should be at this house to-day. This is
certainly the house. l can't conceive
why she isn't here"
Olives sympathy for the gentleman
vas very keen, despite her disappoInt-
ment, and she found herself stepping
forward into the hall.
There is probably some mistake, sir,
( she commenced to say when her glance
fell upon the note, which he held IN his
hand. 1t was certainly her very own.
Her heart gave q wild throb. She
flashed her eyes over the visitor from
head to foot, to sec if BY any means she
could trace a resemblance between a grave
professional gentleman of forty and
certain quick motioned black-eyed man
Of her acquaintance. Never were tive
more unlike.
"Wnl you come in, sir? she said at
last
Mr.. Brown followed Olive into the
luxurious parlors.
There is some strange mistake, sir"
she said, facing him as soon as he was
seated. u wrote the note you have in
your hand"
"Tou are mistaken, madam. It vas
certainly written by a friend of mine,
Miss Olive Pinkney, and mailed at Cor
inth." aud Mr.. Brown looked wildly at
the tall, slight, dark-eyed girl who claim
ed to be the originator of the epistle
written By his little blue-eyed lady-love.
Indeed, thoughts of intrigue and con-
spiracy flashed upon him as he rose to t
his feet, repeating, "YOu are mistaken,
madam"
Olive could not but smile in spite Of
her disappointment, and IN the midst of
her bewiiderment.
at can't be a hoax, sir, for certainly
wrote the note; b7t how the mistake hap
pened-Your name, sir ?" as the thought
flashed across her mind.
"Ricbard Brown, at your service,
madam"
Mr, Brown repeated his respectable
name with dignity.
ooh, understand now ~ exclaimed
Olive, and by the time the matter was
clearly explained to Mr. Brown hew the
letter had fallen into his hands, through
his name being the same as Olives lover,
LAWYER Brown and the intelligent, dark I
eyed girl, whose note he returRed with
smiling bow and an involuntary compl-
ment, were very nicely acquainted.
"Thcre is another Richard Brown iu
town, whose post office address is box 285
"a tall, black eyed fellow-eh p and Mr..
Brown stopped, laughing, for the sudden
crimson Of Olives face revealed the whole
story.
Miss Hudson" be said archly, for he
was fond OF quiet jest, ut .Teally lsn
possible that you have quarrled with such
a fae fellow as that2'
Il was such pleasant, sensible face,
aud such an air Of true dignity about the
gentleman that Olive, finding that Mr..
Brown knew Dick quite well, was led in
to telling the whole story Of the quarrel,
and ended with
81 really must see him Immediately"
"3Iust you, indeed Is it possible that
you are in love with such an unreasonable
fellow, Miss Olive p
II was half to blame, Mr. Brown"
ooh, woman woman - sighed the
gentleman, "what angels You are-some-
times :"