Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1870-04-26

this afternoon"
Mildie felt a strange tingling about
her temples, for here he paused.
al may as we'll out with it now"
he continued. ats the best way
Miss Mildred, are you engaged to
Henry Foster ?"
Mildred stopped short in the road,
bringing her two feet together with a
smart rap that sent two or three peb-
bles spinning into the river.
"John Graham, you have no right
to ask me such a question, and you
know it" she said, between her teeth,
and looking him in the face, while the
color mounted in an instant to her
forehead.
'1 know it we'll, Miss Mildred; but
| had to ask it. If you only knew
how glad would feel if you would
just pardon.the asking of it, and reply
NO to it"
"And pray, Mr.. John Graham. why
and wherefore should | answer it?-
What is it to you whether or no | am
engaged to Mr.. Foster?"
Il will tell you why, Mildred Faunce,
and tell it from my heart. If | offend
you, | can only say it will but add
another sorrow. Since, eight years
ago to-day { | was thinking of it this
afternoon,) when seized your cookie
she'll of boat on the brink of yon
fall and carried your poor little white
wet face up to your fathers house
since that sad day | have thought one
thought and dreamed one dream, and
that thought and that dream have
both been you. have thought |
might yet work out Of my poor miser-
able place into something better, and
larger, and nobler, and ask you to
share it with me as my right. And
when | lett poor old mother to 60 and
fight for the flag, mingled with the
feeling of right in so doing, was also
that other thought Of coming home
here with the poor private's dress
changed to something worthy to greet
you. The bullet stopped all that, but
my strong self is left yet to work out
the other. Can l not hope that you
will give me leave to try ?"
He stopped and looked searchingly
heseechingly, into her face. Poor
Mildie looked down aud around and
into the clear river, and down again,
and scraped up small mountain Of
gravel in the road with her nervous
little feet. At length she said:
"Mr. Graham, this is all very wrong
in you. What good can come of it
You know | can say nothing without
consulting my father, and he, you
know, would be very angry did he
know Of this"
Your father is like others. He
would like me better had | FIVE hun
dred acres instead of FIVE. But | have
that within me that tells me | viii
not always be as now. Simply say
may go on and try and make my
self worthy of you"
"No, | can not. am little afraid
Of you. As Harry says, you art
sometimes very gravestone.'
John Graham's face darkened.
Are you engaged to Henry Eos
ter, Mildred p he asked again.
No, I'm not-there y and she
darted up the road, leaving him stand
ING gazing after her. He stood so fol
a long time, and then slowly retraceC
his steps to the cottage. His mother
noticed his troubled look, and quietl,
OWNED the reason.
John, ah, John r she said, ~,
dinna ken the hoyden ye run after
She's bonnie good lass, but she's n;
for the likes Of ye. Don't fret your
self, but be a man.
All, mother, perhaps you say true
but who is she for do you guess ?"
Wha, man, and have We twa cen
Young Squire Foster is the man."
And, mother dear, think Henr,
| Foster is not, nor will he be, the man
| And now I'll take my afternoon stroll.
/ On the Sabbath following, Midi
/ Faunce was again found seated in PEG
goty Plimpton's Choir. and this tim
the male part Of the orchestra fount
no less an addition to it than Mr.. Har
ry Foster. Peggoty Plimpton thi
day had a new trial. Hardly one o.
! the lesser lights Of her luminous world
jamie Thompson, or jamie Keyes, o
Nelly Page. could find any voice a
all, or, if it came, it came quaverin
and weak and uncertain, on account q
Mr.. Fosters presence. But Mildie'
voice rang out clear as a bell, an,
Tim Jackson, and Ned Brice, an
Farmer Squires roared like their ow
two year olds, to try and drown tn
new tenor; without any effect what
ever, for Harry held on like a goo
one, and seemed to enjoy the Who'll
thing nightly. Down in a corne
pew, during the service, sat John Grs
: ham, still and silent. Once or twic
he tried to catch Mildie Faunce's ey,
and once or twice changed his positio
: nervously. On coming out of tn
: church he and his mother came dow
! the aisle with Deacon Faunce, who il
vited them to ride with him.
Mildie walks to-day, tbs so warn
} and | can drop you at your door jul
as well as not"
, They thanked him, and John hell
/ ed his mother in as the large wago
drove up, and then got up alongsiG
r the driver.
"And how did you like the mus
( to-day, Graham ?" asked the deaco
. as they ratified down the road.
: "Some Of it liked" replied job
d" some | did not. The last hymn
/. Let the last trumpet blow, reminde
/. me of some of our glorions old can
\ fire choruses, and stirred me grand
e You ought to hear some of the so
t diers' songs, deacon, resounding U
J through the still woods to the sE
4 looking down on US, and echoing alor
5 the swamp shores. Some of the
s come in like artillery
n II wish to my heart | could" a
t swered the worthy deacon. "Mildie
airs are often mere twaddle, and
g are Peggoty Plimpton's. As f
e Young Foster, today, he sang mo