The Portland daily press., 1868-06-06


looked at Mr. Wheeler in an odd way-not
Just the way, l thought, to look at a guest:
but then he was worn out by Roses visit.
and that was an excuse for him. And he said
not one word, and 1 talked my best to cover
his silence, until just as was pouring cup
OF tea Tor him, Mr.. Wheeler said, as he might
to lawyer:
I've come for bit of advice, maam."
"Eh?' said |. "Well?"
Il have farm-a good un-plenty of stock
and a couple O. thousand in bank" said he
"I'm young and healthy, and know how to
get on, ain'tII warranted in marrying?"
81 should think you were," said l.
'That Miss Rose Budworth is just the pref
test girl | ever knew" said he. ''Im fond
OF her, and shall feel more Independent I
reckon if my wife hasn't money. Do you
think she would have me, Miss Grantly?-
You're not to say old-but, but, experience
ed-and they say-mother says-you'd be
likely to have found out"
Then he turned the color of picked beet,
and held his peace.
II have not found out" said l. Sand if l
had | wouldn't tell you. You must ask Rose'
she'll make any man good wife, and has the
sweetest temper in the world. Ask her like
man."
'Will you give me her address in town ?"
said he. Pm going in Monday, and after
my business is through I'll call The old folks
want me to settle. They calculate to live
with Adoniram, and sister James ENGAGED
I'll call. She can't be keeping company with
any one else you know OFF"
told him was sure she was not. And
though, to be sure, Farmer Wheeler was not
highly educated, hoped Rose would say
| ~ s, for he was good and handsome, and
one to be always comfortable in circumstan-
ces. SO encouraged the young man, and
wished him well, and shook hands with him
when he left us.
was in a happy mood when 1 went back
| to the parlor; but the moment 1 entered
stood stock still, in sort of fright. My broth
er Clay was pacing up and down the room,
red in the face, and even to the very neck,
where you could see it over his collar.
| Are you i'll %
| lie stopped short and looked at me-
| I'm afraid | am" he said. eyes, yes, Pm
AFRAID Iam. No matter don't mind me. I'll
"Will you have glass of waterp" said I.
tie sat down and looked at me and laugh
| ed.
NO." he said. 81 believe I'm fool after
all. There's nothing to be afraid OIL"
| Then he ran his hands through his hair
until it stood bolt upright all over his head.
Said he, by Jove, shall do something des-
| perate,' and rushed out of the room.
Five minutes after, l saw him rush past the
| window with his hat on, ard take the road to
| Happyove.
was very much frightened 1 never had
been quite so much alarmed in my life.
Broodmg melancholy ends in madness some
times, and l could but fancy that my poor
brother was going out of his mind. What
could he mean by "something desperate" it
was more than l could guess. But then, il
ne was out of his mind, he might intend to
take his own life. He might have come to
think that it was mis- duty, as he had thought
1t was, to wear wretched countenance and
shun his fellow-man because his evil-temper-
ed wife had ceased to scold him, How could
tellP And to add to this, Conelia, coming
IN Few moments after, frightened me still
| more.
'Fraid Marsa GRAVITY gwine to be sick, !"
she said. "Nebber see HIM look so before.
| Nebber see no one look so except de gentle
man lived with that killed himself count %
loosin' money. He look jes so fore he shot
hisself-red, and fustered, and looney like.
You keep lookout Mrs. Barbara-take my
| device"
1t did me good to scold the woman. but l
was frightened all the same; and when nine
O'CLOCK ten = eleven came, and still nv
brother did net come, 1 grew worse and
| worse.
| Al midnight it began to pour-a regular
midnight summer rain storm. And then |
1aIrly sat down and cried. 1 had quite made
up my mind that Clay would never come
home alive again, and 1 blamed myself for
having broken up his hermits life and per-
maps Drought all this about by forcing him to
see strangers and talk to them.
| The rain beat against the windows. and
the shutters slammed, and the wind moaned,
and ! moaned too. "My poor, poor brother '
said-"My poor, dear brotherw And L
| could fancy him lying before me, cold and
dead. Something desperate r-oh, yes-he
meant to shoot himself in the woods between
Our house and Happylove, and should find
MN there in the morning, with perhaps a
letter to me in his pocket accusing me of hay-
ing done it all.
Perhaps he had lett a line for me up stairs
and took lamp and went up to his room.
l. found nothing, however, but some soiled
| linen in heap on the floor and the hat-box
rolling beside it in which he kept his best hat
lnat dld not comfort me one bit, for respect
able people when they do commit suicide
usually have vanity enough to wear their best
things.
put the room to rights and went down
again to the parlor 1t was raining harder
than ever, and nearly half-past one. l was
quite distracted by this time, and though L
knew could not find him dead or alive in
the woods on such night, / could hardly
keep from running out into the storm. In
deed, had opened the door and was peeplng
out when splash, splash came footsteps
through the darkness towards the door.
Some one was bringing me news of my
brother. ran quite out into rain.
| "Tell me quick-tell me the worst at once p,
| said.
And great hand caught my wrist, and
voice said:
"Why Barbaraw
1t was my brothers voice-and he pulled
me into the house, and we stood looking at
each other in the little parlor.
| He was soaking wet-the rain dropped
| nom his garments to the floor. His hair
hung dank over his face, and his sodden hat
brim dropped above it. He did look wild and
and queer enough in such pickle certainly,
and my mind was full ofmy fancy that his
mndhad gone wrong.
"Ah I! thank Heaven you are alive" | said
| "And go to bed, dear, and l'll send for the
doctor, and you shall never be bothered by
company again."
But he answered:
"Why should you send for the doctor, Bar
bara?" so quietly, that l saw he had had his
senses in moment. Then began to grow
angry.
where have you been all this while ?"
said l. "lve been frightened to death about
you. And how did you get so wet? ?"
walking from the depot in the RAIN he
said, with laugh-the second 1 had heard
that day-the first for years.
And what took you to the depot ?" said I.
''Pve been TO New York, }" he said, patient
ly, as though the old time, when he was used
to being scolded, had returned.
Then a sud len flush passed oyer his face.
and his eyes sbone.
''Pve been to ask Rose Budworth to be NV
wife," he said. "And oh, Barbara, think of it
she likes me Better than she does that ras-
cal, Wheeler-confound his red face and his
farm !-and-and she said she would, Bar
bara."
L stared at him in amaZement.
lis that what you meant by something des-
perdte ?" l asked. And then-he declares.
and SO does Corny-I went off into Mysteries.
do not believe them for IFS not my way.
But was very nervous that night. And
after being frightened, so much delighted:
and it was all so funny
So Rose Budworth came to us at Christ
mastide as Clay's wife; and we are going to
brighter Zone in the spring. But, somehow,
even this old place seems bright now; and
my brother is a changed man, and ten years
younger in his looks and ways. And as for
farmer Wheeler he is to be married soon, to
girl much better suited to him than our
Rose; and no one will regret the night on
hInI my h1trf lnnr III. l. H.