Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1871-06-29

DOT came III, anu Jne alTeuuy -DelONeu HeIO'
inc had to be exchanged for Roberts
afghan and everyday chat. Then came
other interruptions and duties no more
writing that day. The promised attempt
at nap occurred about half an hour before
Roberts return, having been entirely for.
gotten till then and though Annie lay or
the sofa, with her eyes conscientiously
closed, for fully fifteen minutes, hel
thoughts were on her heroine all the time
and once she sat up and made pencil
memoranda on the back of a letter, hastily
pocketed as her husbands step was heard
BY the second night her plot was fully
sketched in her mind, and it only remained
to put it upon paper. Sometimes a whole
day would pass, and not moment of time
could she find for writing, though exactly
in the mood for it. Again, she would have
leisure, but an almost unconquerabe aver.
sion to her pen; and if she tried to rally
her powers by reading what was already
written, it sounded like arrant nonsense:
certainly no sane editor would accept it
The native persistency of her character,
however, enabled her to finish her task, in
defiance Of many interruptions and discour-
agements, and the rough draft of her story
was completed in two weeks. 1t was a
funny-looking affair, on no less than
twenty-thrce pieces of paper-half sheets
and whole sheets, backs of envelopes and
concert programmes; white, brown and
tinted paper; some in pencil, some in
ink-a most disreputable medley; but she
was happy little woman as she scrNwled
the last line, Strengthened her crampcd
shoulders, pushed her hair back from her
flushed cheeks, and whispered, "Done at
lOst~ A timely term of bad weather
gave her leisure to copy it promptly. She
was arranging her neat pages when
Roberts step was heard on the piazza. She
nervously crushed the Ms. into her port
folio, and was just turning the key as her
husband entered but she looked so guilty
and confused that he exclaimed
"How, scared you look, Annie Did
you take me for burglar ?"
"Oh no; but aren't you early =? There's
no bad news, is there p
"No, no, little woman; nothing of the
kind. Been writing to mother ? She'll
be glad to hear from you. Are you going
to let me read your letter." Annie was
in the closet getting his slippers, so he did
not see her troubled face as she made some
evasiye answer, and changed the subject.
Robert referred no more to her writing,
and Annie believed his suspicious were not
eXcited-that he would think Of it no
more. This was far from being the case,
however.
The day before the Lawrenccs sailed
Annie mailed her precious MS, under the
nom de pI',me "Cynthia Sullivan" She
was very uneasy on her Grand to the post,
for fear some one might suspect her mis-
sion, and was glad to start on her way
homeward, thinking herself unseen but
she was mistaken, for although her hus-
bands office was in another part the town,
he saw her, and wondering at her strangely
agitatcd face, his jealous heart instantly
suggested that she came from the direction
of Tom Lawrence's Office, as Tom had been
an old and ardent admirer others. But he
sought no explanation, and grew moody
and sullcn; his wife attributing his con-
duct to his old enemy, the dyspepsia.
As days went on she had her own inward
anxiety to bear, for no reply came from
the editors. Every other day she inquired
at the post-otice for "Cynthia Sullivan"
but without success, till, at last, during
the third week of suspense, an envelope
bearing that name was actually handed
out to her. Well was it that the post
master was boxed in behind high wooden
barriers, or he must have observed Mrs.
Dana's strange agitation over the letter.
She lost all sense of the ground beneath
her feet as she hurried through the village,
and out on by-road, where, seated in a
gap of the wall, behind tangle Of clematis
vines and barbc"ry bushes, she read,
through happy tears, these beautiful
words:
"MrS. CmtIia SMlicm:
DEAR MADAM,-Your MS, 'Stella's
Summer by the Sea- is accepted for --
NaQagine, and we herewith inclose for it
our check for fortysevcn dollars and fifty
cents. Yours, etc"
There was the crisp, orange-lettered
check, the more than realization of her
widest hopes She felt that these editors
were her dearest friends, and longed to
do something to express her gratitude to
them. 1t was almost too good to be true
and, as she walked happily home, one hand
in her pocket claspng the wonderful letter,
she feared she should wake and find it all
dream. Going in, she found on the
|o1, 10 l,,r1 u, ho4 nd n1
letter, with Liverpool post-mark, adj
dressed to her in Tom Lawrence's we'll
known handwriting. Of course it was
from Carry; she never rouW direct her
own letters. But where was Robert 2 She
went through paror and sitting room seek
ing him, tearing open the letter mean
while. Not finding him, she was about
going up stairs, but, remembering the pre-
cious check in her pocket, turned back,
smiling happily as she recalled its contents,
and locked it safely in her desk, quite una
ware that Robert was watching her from
behind the bay-window curtains. Yes he
had seen her come in, more joyously than
for weeks past, with Toms letter open IN
her hand; seen her look carefully about
the rooms, hastily sccrete billet in her
desk, and pocket the key. She never used
to lock that desk, or have any secrets. 10
be sure, she showed him her letter after
ward-but that was from Carry the in
closure, so carefully hidden, was doubtless
from Tom. And yet, while all his worst
fears were thus revived, Annie's eyes were
so pure and true, her manner so loving and
happy, he could not doubt her long. After
a night of reflection he resolved that il she
had secret it could not be an unworthy
one: he would trust her and respect it. II
her heart ever did regret its choice, he
would win her back by patient tenderness;
for he we'll knew that ifman had guardian
angel, his little wife was his.
Now followed many happy weeks, dur.
ing which Annie showed no absence Of