Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1870-11-03

| never heard Of girl yet who could keep
her own counsel in love affair.
81 am glad if she has done So" replied
Mrs. Lansden; but Lucy IL not tickle"
NO" returned Mr.. Lansden; but
still It would be better for her to look for
a husband little nearer home India and
doubtful expectations are poor ground
work for housekeeping, am afraid"
Here Lucy thought sfH had heard
enough; so, stepping through the open
window, she laid her hand OF her mothers
arm, and said, with dowrrast face, on
which smiles and bushes struggled for the
mastery, Mamma, dear, you must tell
papa that he is quite wrong have not
spoken about George because | fancied
that If did 10 you might think was
frctting; but I have not forgotten him;
and--and / know he has not forgotten
me-"
!" Not 80 fast, pussy" said her father
:" you may be fidelity itself, but how can
you be sure Of George?"
Because he has sent me something
this morning" she replied.
And / gave him to understand that l
would have no kttcr-witing," said Mr..
Lansdcn, rather testify.
:" / did not say letter, papa"
We'll, then, a present-that's worse
| Wrong again-but you can see it II
| you like, papa" and Lucy placed her
| treasure in her fathers hand the moment
| after, shuddenng lest puff OF wind, or
| Mr. Lansden's unsympathetic touch, should
bring it to grief.
"Why, what in the world is the mean.
| ing Of this rubbish ?" exclaimed Mr. Lans-
den, as he opened the second envelope /;
and what extraordinary event Is to take
place at this dateg Dead leaves and the
day Of the month--so that's the novel
style of love letter, Is ity"
oh, no, papa, you don't understand"
said Lucy.
NO, my dear, certainly do not. Per-
haps you will be kind enough TO explain"
replied Mr.. Lansden.
Why, when George went away, we
| gathered some laburnum together. We
were to remember each other by it and so,
now the day of our parting has come
again, and as you said he must not write,
he has sent ME this to show me he has
not changed. Mamma, you understand,
don't you"
Mrs. Lansden pattcd the little hand that
rested on her arm, smiled assent, and then
the trio went to breakfast.
From that time forward, at regular in
tcrvals, on Lucy's birthday, Christmas day,
and the anniversary Of their parting, came
similar packets, always enclosing the same
kind Of blank envelope, containing spray
of "Golden Chain," each one drier and
more withered as the time passed on, and
the date that had indcIibly fixed itself on
Lucy's mind grew more thing Of the
past. And so the three years wore away
and Lucy Lansden, still true to her first
love, began to think the days passed very
slowly, and to grow little impatient for
the happy ending that, in her simple faith,
she felt sure must come sooner or later to
the love that had stood SO sure test.
Just at the end Of the third year. when
the ground round the summer house was
yellow with the fallen blossoms of the la
burnum trees, Lucy, it must be confessed,
rather nnwillingly accompanied her moth
or TO the seaside. Mrs. Lansden was the
victim of certain somewhat imaginary all
ments, the successful treatment Of which
necessitated frequent change of scene and
air; so just at the time when Lucy had
come to the conclusion that George might
arrive any day, she was hurried out of
town, consoling herself, however, with the
reflection that should he come from India
for the purpose of seeing her, he would
not much mind journey to the sea-
coast.
1t was too quiet place to be the resort
Of ordinary summer tourists, and the
towns-people seemed utterly ignorant of
the natural charms Of which, in the esti-
nation of weary Londoners, their little
seaside town was possessed, so that Lucy's
rambles were very solitary but she would
sit contentedly for hours, apparently alb
sorbed In her book or work, or watching
the waves rolling up on the sands, but In
reality busy with some happy day dream;
and her mother would sometimes notice
with smile her anxiety to appear in the
colors and dresses that suited her best, or
her careful arrangement Of the fresh flow
ers of which she insisted on having such
an abundance in their sitting room but
the days and weeks passed by, and autumn
was close at hand, yet Lucy's hopes were
strangely restless, looking forward to her
birthday with dim presentiment of
evil, that grew stronger Us the day drew
nearer.
Had Lucy's twenty first birthday been
spent at home, there would have hsen q
party in honor Of the day but as it was,
1t babe fair to resemble every other day,
except that Mr. Lansden was to pay them
visit.
Lucy awaited her fathers appearance
with an impotence that was not entirely
on his account and when the bracelet he
brought her had been admired, her first
question was, Are there any letters for
me- papay"
Letters, pussy? Why, what con-
science you have! sent you four yester-
day." replied her father.
II meant the one from George" said
Lucy
mo. did not leave home until the
post was in, but there was no letter for
you; and Lucy, my DEAR" continued her
father, kindly, as he noticed her disap-
pointed look, don't you think it would be
as well to try and forget that affair alto
gcthers You know don't want to pain
you. especially on this day, when wish to
make you SO happy; but cannot help
thinking that If George had been good for
much we should have heard something
definite about him before this"
Lucy's lip quivered as her father spoke,
while there was tinge of sadness in her
tone as she said, "Not to-day, papa. Please
don's speak Of II to-day; !" and no the sub.
ject was allowed to rest