The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1872-10-24
steal ring in the New zealander's mild

PINK cneck.
ave come rs said" she murmered,
dropping at my feet again, and smiling up
IS though she had got where she best low.
ed to be-just such smile as she would
have given to the stokers down in the en-.
CINE room, or to the ships cat. But it was
lovely to look upon while it lasted; and
We middlc-aged people have learned to
warm ourselves in any chance ray of sun
light without stopping to consider wheth
or it Is likely 10 be perpetual.
This time the sunshine did not stay long
| for there came up an artist with his sketch
book; and when Miss Armour had suffi
ciently admired his graphic penciling Of
the captain and the quarter master, and
the sea-sick occupants Of an upper berth
il was time to throw the dog: and so he
bore her off, to find ont by her own eyes
| whether We were actually going at the
rate of thirteen knots, or only twelve and
| Il half
That was how the days went The pas
sengers read and paced the deck. played
games and guessed riddles, and were al
ways hungry; the pilot stood steady and
! firm at the wheel; the sailors ran up and
down about the rigging like overgrown
spiders. and were forever securing and
scrubbing, tying and untying, drawing W
and letting down. Thus, AT last, we came
safely almost to our desired haven. With
fair sailing We were only one day out from
port; fond rs we had grown Of each other
We were getting impatient to part
Miss Armour, during all the voyage
had kept on as she began, becuiling every
one with her trick Of lip and eye. They
ran after her like boys at the string of a
kite. Well, they had nothing better to dc
just then and when she had faded out as
a rsinbow fades, made no doubt she
would be as easily forgotten or oaly re
membcred as mid-summcr's day dream,
by all, unless il might be solitary, warm
hearted man like the New Zealander. To
| tell the truth, was little sorry for him
Evidently life had not brought him all il
might; and he was hungry for the love
and confidence that had never been his
So was afraid he would miss this little
sparkle Of girlhood and warm youth. and
find the void deeper when it had gone
out
To the very last day. Rosa kept her
place by my char, and 10 the very ias,
day the New Zealander kept his blaze by
her when no one younger stepped in 10
carry her off, which was pretty often, te
be sure. Then. he always quietly wen;
away himself, with a kind Of grave regre;
in his face On this last morning. Miss
Armour had just left us, along with a
younng lawyer, to drop oranges and lem
ons among the siecrage passengers, when
| noticed the New Zcalander looking after
her with saddcr regret than usual-al-
most pain-in his eyes. lie had sucl
handsome dark eyes! could see tha'
without my glasses.
Now" said to myself, Il hope h
isn't going to get sofa sensible. gentt
manly, agreeable man like him, and quit,
old enough to be her fathert
And SO looked at him To see ii he wa.
when suddenly he turned upon me
"At least you might have written, Agatha
Wells" he said sharply.
! started. as you may think, to hear my
own name spoken SO familiarly by stran
ger; when looking again, behold. saw
beneath the bronze, and under the wrin
kles. and beneath the beard, face that
twenty years before was the dearest in thu
world 10 mc-the face Of Duncan Ashley
We parted one day expecting to meet thu
next. but that evening he was called AVA,
and wrote instead Of coming In the lc,
ter he said what he had said before Will
his cyes-yes. those same beautiful eyes
that was the choice Of his heart and III,
desire Of his life
Answer me-" he said. Il cannot wal,
till see you"
So answc.ed-a long foolish letter
though there was no need Of writing, 70,
he had read all could say long before.
with those eyes Of his then watched and
waited for him, but never saw him or hear,
one word more. fyou are young 70,
can imagine the slow dying out Of hop,
and expectation and if you are old
you know how such things can be live,
over, and hidden in secret graves
But now AS though the graves had been
opened, and the judgement set, came this |
sudden reproachful question up from The
buried past. fairly caught my breath
as turned back my eyes, and looked him
In the face again
Forgive me-" said he directly. in gen
ller tone. Il did not mean to speak. Yo'
brought it on with your eyes; the que,
iioning turn was SO familiar OF cours,
you were quite right, and never blamce
you. ! never meant you should see m,
again; but the temptation to feel myseI
beside you, only to be IN the soothin
harm Of your presence, was too great |
las been blessing shall carry with m
IL the resi- Of my life"
He was rising to 20 away but put on
ny hand. ~ did write" Duncan Asl.
ey," I said. the letter must have gon,
You did You wrote" he cried, sink
ng back into his chair again, and looking
1 me eagerly. What did you say.''
There was only one thing could say
nd said that" answered, blushing rs
hough ! had jast written the letter.
A middle, woman in hood an,
waterproof Blu, dear me. it was only m,
ace that was middle.aged, after all; m,
cart was young and silly as ever An,
8 for Duncan's face, the marks of care
nd thought, and time. fell of, leaving j,
only the eternal youth Of eternal you'll
{ love.
II was the old story Of lost letter, am
ne older story Of lost letter, and the old
r story Of u proud man believing himscl
elected and humiliatcd, and fleeing
le ends OF the earth with his pain
But, bless your heart! might as vel
ave tried TO wipe up the Atlantic Wit,
y poke; handkerchief lie WAS SO
rieyed and SO impatient and so resoluh
md, indeed, when one comes to think ol