Urbana union. [volume] (Urbana, Ohio) 1862-1872, 1870-09-14
OUT In The Rain.

Sprinkle! rain shower! right down
on AIillie Warmers tasteful little hat
and graceful shoulders, unprotected
save by thin swawl, notwithstanding
| the beseeching glance of the prettiest
pair of hazel eyes that ever looked up to
! q cloud i'm that way.
| When Millie came to large, white
farmhouse, she very gladly and rather
astily-fOr jIst then there was a heavy
/ peal Of thunder-opened the gate and
went up the fiOweF-bOrdeTed path to The
house, and as another peal of thunder
was heard, accompanied by vivid flash
of lightning, Millie entered without GER
emony. She took in at glance the con-
tents Of the room, plainly but neatly
| fuTnished-the cane seated chairs, the
pretty chintz-cOveTed lounge, the book
case filled with books and sheet-music,
! the violin in its case i'll the corner, the
vase Of faded flowers, and the ornaments
on the mantel. There was no one there
but she heard childish voice in the
next room, and again knocked A dark
eyed girl of ten or twelve years opened
! the door. Millie explained why she was
there. With the ease and good manners
of one much older, the child bade her
welcome, placed a chair near the stove
and took Miles dripping hatand shawl.
4 was just beginning to get dinner;
/ that was the reason I didn't hear YOU
knock. twill be a long time before
| the shower is over, and you must stay
with US to dinner. It will be ready by
the time Ben comes; but that will not be
| for an hour
'Es, dinnie'li be weddy when Ben
tums,' lisped and laughed a little girl of
three years.
Where is your mother p asked AIillie
of the little Eva, when Hetty was out of
the room.
we is got no mudder but Ben,' the
! little one lisped.
When Hetty came back, AIilIie said:
| Now 1 have got nicely warmed, and nv
dress will dry just as well atwork as sit
ting still; SO will help you get dinner.
| IF you like [ will make some biscuit,
and we will have dinner in a very short
| time.'
Hetty was delighted. Ben would be
glad. Might she look on and learn how I?
Millie was young and frank and gay,
and she and the children soon became
very well acquainted over the biscuit.
She said presently trying potato with
a fork. =
The potatoes are done. 1 will put
them on again to dry. That will make
them mealy. In few minutes. we will
peel them, and then dinner will be all
ready except taking up
The dinner seemed very nneagre to. lit
tie Hetty as she ran over the items in
her municipalities peas, pork, biscuit,
butter, ,cucumbers, milk and water. She
had wanted to make tea for her visitor
but she declined decidedly. The poor
child said, apOlOgetioallyl
When father and mother were alive.
we used to have good many things for
dinner, and Martha, our hired girl, used
to get them allE but when they died. and
Squire Johns said he bought a MORTGAGE
on our farm, and that we had got to nav
every cent the day it was due or lose
everything; we had to do without a good
many things, and we are poor now. and
Ben is afraid we can't have enough to
pay it, and they all say we may look for
no mercy from Squire Johns, for he is
very hard on the poor, and he has ALWAYS
wanted our farm, because it joins some
of his own land where he wants to build.
heard all about 1t when one Of our
neighbOrs was talking with our Ben.
though he didn' n'twant me to know about
it,
Millie had listened to this with Curl
GUS miXtue of feelings, for Johns was a
declared lover of hers, and though she
had not accepted him, she had been
pleased with his attentions, and certain
~ had given him encouragement More
over he was to receive his final answer
in three days from that time, and she |
was not sure the answer reserved and |
laid away for that time was mo- True, |
Millie was not in love with him, but she |
had waited so long in vain for the ee-
static state of feelings she had read and |
heard so much about, that she thought |
she was not capable Of love, and that to
like any one was as much as she could |
expect. She certainly liked Squire
Johns as well ifnot better, than any one,
and his love must certainly be disinter-
ested, for he could not know that-but
now Mile stopped. Could he not?
Might he not have found out some
way.
If the story was true, would such q
a man be likely to marry poor girl
For Mile Warner was really an heiress
in small way. She was sole heir to q
small, unencumbered farm from her fa-
ther, and five thousand dollars in bank
stock But the farm AyBs--rw0- hundred
miles south Of this town, where she was
cousin, and nobody knew oft;
and during her visit she had helped her
when she was at home-capable indus
triouF little girl that she was. This sto-