Mower County transcript., 1871-08-03
It was the morning after Mrs. Cowcn's

looking on, upon her cherished flowers,
but seeing little of their beauty. Scot was
sitting at his table, his head upon his
hand. Whether it was the long, vain
watching for Walter, or the sleepless
nights and hard days work or the old
hidden grief, did not know, but certainly
his face was white and llaggard as never
seen it before. Suddenly he looked across
at me with his own brave SMILE
"Comc, Charlie, We have been idle too
long, dear fellow"
had risen and was sauntcring toward
him, when the door was opened and a
familiar face looked in upon u.s.
"Pennie, Pennie, darling Fancy never
coming to meet me" Walter cried,
throwing down his hat and coming for
ward, grand and handsome in the glow
ing sunshine. 'Pennie, darling, here I
am" And he was close beside her, his
arms open to receive her.
She gave one look into his face, 80 swift
that she only seemed to have moved her
eyes from the garden into the room.
Where areyou going, Scots" she said:
"Plcase don't 90 away: This is your
room. not ours. am going myself when
have spoken to you and Walter"
"Pennie, arc you angry, darling?' whis-
pered Walter.
mo, not at ALL" she answered, moving
from him and standing beside the table at
which Scot had sat down again. IL can
not now make myself feel even angry
with you, Walter"
"Thank you. Thank you, DEAR" he
said, j0yful1y. "Co1Be out with me. l
want to tell you how it was"
"Tell me here" she answered very
quietly.
"Tilat's hardly fair" he complained
with reason, tho ught', but, Of course,
my darling, never fame cd my mother
was really 50 ill.,"
IL told you," replied Pennie, still more
buietly.
"Ycs, you did say so," replied Walter,
looking for the first time little nervous
and anxious; but knew she was always
fanciful, and thought this was one of her
false alarms. You ought to be sorry for
me, Penpie. Thought you would feel for
me in this grief"
She did not look into the face, where
was shade of real grief; and he went on
passiOnately in her silen &.
"Pennie, want to speak TO you Come
away. Why do you stay here?'
because" she said, moving little, and
laying her hand on the back Of Scots
chair, because would rather speak here.
Scot will listen to me; and teach me once
again-tcach me what to do"
She paused for few moments Walter,
leaning against the table, looked down
upon her in astonishmcnt.
"Scot, if have learned that have made
q great, great mistake i'll thinking that |
else, isn't it best and kindest to tell him SO
now, before it is too latc?"
Scot did not answer her, and she repeat
cd the question, her beautiful eyes child.
like in their pleading.
"Would it be right TO tell BIN so, Scot,
or 20 on in the falsehood?"
fright to tell him so,'' answered Scot,
in tones low and quiet.
"Thcn Walter" she said, raising her
face to him as it flushed and paled rapidly,
81 will tell You of my mistake now, before
your brother and my own. There were
once two gifts of love within my reach !;
| and the one which my eager, ignorant
hand grasped, because it seemed most
bright and winning to my dazzled eye, was
| not tho one which could satisfy my heart.
! I did not understand either then was as
powerless to feel the deep self-forgetful-
ness of the one as the shallow selfishness
of the other but now that know my own
u
ment. Some day myself shall be old and
suffering, pcrl,aps-fanciful, too, 1 dare
say; those who give much love, to win
but little in return, often are-and should
not like to feel that when summoned you
to my dying bed you would not heed the
summons. / should not like all through
my life to pour out q wealth of love on one
who could laugh at me for the exacting
intensity Of the gift. And SO am very,
| very grateful have read this in my heart
before it was too late"
"This is nonsense, Pennie," interrupted
Walter, with forced smile. "Colne and
let me explain to you.'
"You have done so,' Pennic said, still
with her hand on Scots chair, and still
with her eyes clear and undrooping. "YOu
have explained 1t all to me during the last
few weeks. Now 1t is my turn, and am
| trying to do SO ; only it seems as if could
not say much even now Of what is in my
own heart Your mother had faithful,
careful nurse, Walter, in all her illness !;
and by him no duty was neglected, no
pleasure sought. Charlie, did Scot seek
bis own pleasure? did he fail in any of
his duties, through all the time that Wal
ter was securing his own plt asure cease
less]y, and failing in this one chief duty:'
"Not one" she repeated, the little hand
| tight ON his chair, but her face never
turned to Scot. Mot ono. Did auy re-
membrancc Of this pain weaken his
| hand, or chill his heart? Did it, Char
licY"
"Nevcr," 1 said again, looking for a
moment into Walters vexed and moody
face
"Nevcr," she repeated. "Did any one
thought of himself make him shrink from
his duty to you, Charlie, because made it
bitter to him? or from his duty to his
mother, because she blamed him always
that her own i,lolizcd son had left her to
die alone?"
"NOt one"
"Walter, the love Of such heart is q
prize to be grateful for through all years
and through all years will bc grateful
that once this prize was mine. Scot, dear
Scot, you have taught me all the little
that l know; teach Inc what to do now
that my heart is hungeriDg wcarily for
such love as that floln which turned
away not long ago"
Not Il word did Scot answer, while his
l;tce was hidden in his hands.
am waiting for your answer, Scot"
The hand that had been on his chair
loosened its hold; the little standing
figure slipped down and kncclcd upon the
floor beside him; and both hands were
laid upon the tremulOus white fingers
pressed so tightly in his hair.
"Look, Scot, how l am waiting for
your answer" she brcathcd Il have
never been obedicnt to you before, much
as you have taught me; but l am waiting
to obey you now."
What face it was that her gentle touch
uncovered! could hardly bear to look mp
on it in its wondering, bcwildercd joy for
it told 40 plainly Of the anguish that had
been lived through. Pennies low cry
burst involuntarily from her shaking lips
when she saw it.
80, Scot, forgive me for it. all y
With the angry scarlet burning in his
face, Walter left the room. | have
not seen him since. He writes to
me occasionally-short, gay, selfish letters
but month after month he delays his com
ing home, and the house ut Easter Hill re-
mains without its master. For some time
Scot lived there alone, settling Walters
affairs for him, and still coming to me fo1
old morning studies, but Scot has won his
home now. Yesterday he was chosen for
the new headmaster of the Easterwo0C!
Grammar School; and it is the youngest
headmastcr who had been elected for a
century, they say. To might we are OK.
pecting him back from Cambridge, and
Pennie is standing at the window watch
ing for him. the evening sunshine ltngcr.
ing Nn her bright head, and another rest
ful, happy sunshine in her eyes. Earnestly
dp know that the restiVc little nuni1 whO