Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1870-10-13


from his dictation, and | had foolishly
taken it for granted that she was his
sister. He had never spoken of her,
but married people are always mysteri-
Gus, and her price might be far above
rubies, nevertheless. He had done
nothing to make her jealous. Once
he had taken my hand and touched
it with his lips, and all the rest Of the
foundation of my castle in the sir lay
in look more or less expressed.
But the above, it appears, was all on
my side. He was idle and grateful,
and that was all.
1 would go away at once, no matter
where. Mr.. Deane was so far recov-
cred that my grandmother could easily
take care of him, and attend to all his
wants, and he could soon return to his
own place. 1t would be something for
me to remember, if nothing more.
Then | read my own letter, aud in it
was my way Of escape.
Aunt Rachel wrote to say that "she
was at deaths door with neuralgia, and
would come to help her with the chill
dren?" She saw that door so often in
her own account of her sufferings that
familiarity with it had rather hardened
my heart toward Aunt Rachel, but
now l was ready to lay all the stress
on her letter which it would bear.
"What viii Mr.. Deane say to your
going awsy?" said my grandmother,
when l had impressed on her mind my
duty to Aunt Rachel.
al don't care what he says"
"Lorr' said my grandmother, with
look which implied two hours speech
at least.
"That letter was from his wife," l
said, looking anywhere but at her.
She never answered word, but Just
kissed me on both eyes, and stroked
my hair tenderly for minute or two.
Then we parted for the night, and l
went away in the morning before Mr..
Deane was up.
Aunt Rachel was out of sight Of
deaths door" long before l reached
her, as l had confidently supposed she
would be; but she welcomed me heart
ily, and the kisses of the children
soothed somewhat the sore spot in my
heart.
For the next three days the activity
of the "busy bee," long impaled on
poetical pin, was not to be COM
pared with mine. If there were any
gifts of healing in mere work, | was
determined to have them out of it; but
the image of Mr.. Deane was ever in
my minds eye, and as people say who
have not been to the Normal" | got
no better fast.
Last of all 1 went huckleberrying
with the children, and picked as for my
life.
"There's a strange man coming
across the field" said one of them.
l looked up after minute, and took
Mr.. Deane's offered hand.
"If you teach school as you pick
berries your fortune will soon be
made" he said, with the glad look in
his eyes which seemed to Danish that
dreadful wife of lis to the uttermost
parts of the earth.
"How did you find me?"
"By my wits, chiefly. Your grand
mother was as mysterious over your
departure as if you had gone into a
convent; but when told her l had
good news for you, she relented and
gave me the clue of your hiding
place"
"Aunt Rachel directed you here?"
"Precisely."
"What is your good news?"
81 have heard Of school that you
can have for the asking"
81 am exceedingly obliged to you"
at is a private school, and very
small; but it has the reputation of be-
ing difficult to manage; and from all
that know of you, l have concluded
that you will be the right person.
Will you undertake it?"
eyes, if you are sure of my fitness" ."
81 havn't a doubt of it. | said the
school is small-it has, in fact, one
scholar, aged thirty-two, and his name
is John Jacob Deane."
If 1 said anything or committed my
self in any way for some minutes after
this astounding speech, L have entire
ly forgotten it. >.
"And that letter. found myself
saying after while.
"Was from my sister to her husband,
who had deserted her. 1t was to look
after him and bring him to reason that
1 was riding post-haste to Meriden that
wild night. She enclosed it in letter
to me. l forgot to MENTION" he said,
after pause, which was not without
eloouence of his own, "that my school
begins about the first of September"
mot if l am to teach it, said l.
81 will spend that month and others
after it in turning all my fortunes into
the pretty thing that L have always
longed for"
When Miss Rebecca Verjuice, my
former roommate at the "Normal,
heard the story of my engagement, IN
which she intimated darkly that mine
would be one of the many matches
founded on gratitude.
"John Jacob" said /, solemnly,
when 1 saw him again, ''if you are to
marry me out of gratitude, tell me at
once, that l may be off to my Aunt
Rachel, while there is yet time
"My dear little school Mistress" ne
replied, "if | had been moved only by
gratitude, I should have proposed to
your grandmother"