Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1871-08-04
NO. 1873.
"Have offended you beyond all hope
of fOrpiyeness p,i


/ mo, but"
But you are sick, Miss Burnett?n ?n as
he saw in her face plainly. "You are
really sick. What can do for you?n
She tried to smile. ~
'it is only headache have had it all
day and touch of fever with it, perhaps.
Nothing more"
"1ou have been sick all day, and Ihaye
been aggravating the life out of you,n he
said remorsefully, and in his earnestness
dropped down on one knee beside her
chair, with half bold, half easy grace;
81 have troubled you constantly, not to-
DAY only, but ever since you came here to
teach. What brute you must think me.
was unmanly and cowardly to act as !
did No, you must let me make a full
confession now" kissing the hand she
laid over his mouth to stop him. s'But,
Miss Burnett, you are very ill.," seriously
alarmed now at her white face and closed
eyes, for the self-control maintained BY
main force all day and up to this moment
had given way suddenly, and weaker than
a child she sat there, her breath coming
in little short gasps.
Unused to woman's modes and ways,
he was at a loss what to do. He had an
idea, though, that when a lady tainted,
cold water was the thing, SO he sprinkled
her face with the cup standing on the table
within reach of his hand, and manlike he
drew her head down upon his shoulder.
She was not altogether unconscious, for
she made Il weak movement to withdraw
herself from his arm, but he whispered,
Trust me and lie still, will you not, till
you are better ?" conscious the while Of
an odd, pleasant thrill at his heart, as her
face lay SO near his own that he could
have touched it with his lips. las4g ssis
! If he had been dozen years older, he
would most likely have yielded to the
temptation, and kissed the roses back to
her cheeks. but there was just the least
bit of boyish timdity yet about him, and
besides, he could not forget that he had
been the cause of this very illness, and
his heart smote him regretfully every time
he looked ather. ai
She sent him away by-and-by-as soon
as she was able to set up without support.
She would not let him 60 home with her.
either, though he begged her to let him
do so; /; she would do better by herself, she
said. But seeing the troubled look in his
| eyes as he turned away, she relented SO
far as to say: 3aasts
81 trust we part friends"
He came back to her at this, saying
earnestly: sf3t
"Can you be my friend after what you
have known of me for the past two
months?"
81 can bel am sincerely your friend.n
''Thank you for that. Knowing it, l
shall not carry such a troubled conscience
away with me- ~
All! he never guessed that, instead ola
troubled conscience, he was carrying
Olive Burnett's heart with him.. -
| 1t was seven years before they looked
upon each others faces again. Such
long, long interval. Those seven years
had changed Scott Goldrick into sue
cessful business man, steadily ainassing
his thousands, and alive to the brilliant,
courted young widow, Mrs. Logan.
She had grown heart sick of teaching,
and one day, in desperate mood, gave it
up and married Paul Logan, the rich land
owner. Scott Goldrick, hearing of it in
the distant city where he was living, said
"Such pity She was one woman of q
thousand, and deserves q better man than
that
Well, Paul Logan was better man
than Scott Goldrick's words would seem
to imply and better still, his gold brought
all comforts to the helpless mother until
she died, and a home with all the advan-
tages of wealth to the little sisters. And
now, with her husband two years in the
grave, Mrs Logan went freely into society
once more. M
"Such lovely woman" men always
said when speaking of her and Scott
Goldrick indorsed the verdict when he met
her at a reception one evening, and the
hostess, supposing them to be unaequaint-
ed, presented him.
1t was the Olive Burnett OF seven years
ago who smiled up at him, as she said to
Mrs. Lake, ''Mr. Goldrick and / are very
old friends"
"You remember me, then" he said, as
he led her away.
~ shall never forget" was the sweetly
grave reply. .r.s
But somehow, with this tiattering be-
ginning they did not seem to make much
progress in the renewal of their old ac-
quaintanceship. Meeting often as they
did at party and ball receptions, at con-
certs and theaters and operas, there was
always an indefinable something, dis
tance between them; and it was quite ut
the close Of the winter that calling one
morning on Mrs. Logan to made his adieu
before leaving town, Scott GOldrick lin
gered IA moment as he bowed over her
hand at parting to say half jestingly. but
yet in earnest, too: ar
"Do, you remember the old school
house ?H
Eyes, l remember. l am going out
there on purpose to see it this coming sum-
mer."
"And too. Who knows but what we
shall meetpn
1t was in the midst of August heats that
Mrs. Logan, paying flying visit TO Rye
field, procured the key to the old school
house-empty now for summer vacation
and walked down there alone one after
noon to take look it.
The door swung rustily upon its hinges
as entered and and looked strangely about.
1t was not the cleanest place in the world.
for a coat of dust, raised by the last sweep
ing, had settled over everything, but the
o1gh-coated walls looked as familiar as
ever, and the glazed mass hanging there.
I