The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1872-11-08

Zealander looking after her with a
sadder regret than usaal--almost a
| pain in bis eyes. He had such
handsome dark eyes! I could see
that without my glasses.
Now" said I to myself, "I hope
he isn't going TO get sofia sensible
| geRtlemanly, agreeable man like
him, and quite old enough to be her
| fatheri' And SO I looked at him to
see if he was, when suddenly he
turned upon me.
SAT least you might have written.
Agatha Wells, said he, sharply.
started, as you may think, tc
hear may own name spoken so fa,
miliarly by q stranger; when, look
ing again, behold I saw beneath
the bronze and under the wrir kles
and behind the beard, face that
twenty years before was tie dearest
in the world TO me-the face of Dun
can Ashley! We parted one day
expecting to meet on the next, but
that evening he was called away, and
wrote instead of coming. In the
letter he said, what he had said be.
fore with his eyes-yes, those same
beautiful eyes-that l was the choice
of his heart and the desire of his
life.
Answer me, said he "I cannot
wait till I see you
So / answered. long, foolish let
ter, though there was no need OF
writing; for he had read all l could
say long before, with those eyes OF
his. Then I watched and waited
for him; but never saw him nor
heard one word more. If you are
young, you can imagine the slow
dying-out of hope and expectation,
and if you are old. you know how
such things can be lived over and
hidden in secret graves.
But now, as though the graves had
been opened and the judgment set
came this sudden reproaehful ques-
ton up from the buried past. I fair
" caught my breath, as I turned
back my eyes, and looked him In the
facs again.
Forgive me-" said he directly, il
a gentIer tone. 3" I did not mean tc
speak. You brought it out with
your eyes-that questioning turI
was so familiar. OF course you were
quite right, and [ never blamed you
[ never meant you should see me
again; but the temptation to fee
myself beside you, only to be in the
soothing charm of your presence
was too great It has been a bless
ing I shall carry with me all the res
of my life"
He was rising to go away, but !
put out my hand, "I did write
Duncan Ashley" said I " the letter
must have gone wrong"
You did /! You wrote p he cried
sinking back in his chair again, anc
looking at me eargerly. What die
| you say ?"
There was only one thing I coUlC
say; and [ said that, )" I answered
blushing as though had just writ
ten the letter.
A middle-aged woman in booc
and waterproof! But, dear me! i
was only my face that was middle
aged, alter all; my heart was young
and silly as ever. And as for Dun
cans face, the marks of care, ant
thought, and time, fell off, leaving
in it only the eternal youth of love
It was the old story of a los
letter, and the older story of a prou,
man believing himself rejected ant
humiliated, and fleeing to the end
of the earth with his pain.
Il Twenty precious years wasted! !!
said my New Zealander. "We vii
not be separated another day Will
we both live. There is clergyma
among our passengers; and we Wi
be married this very hour"
That was so like his headlong dc
cieions Certainly he did not nee
] a sober second thought ike mo fo
: ballast. "That cannot bel / cried
4 The ceremony wouldn't be legS
: without a license or som ething. An
= I would by no means do anything S
sensa ional and conspicuous.
: But, bless your heart! I migE
as well have tried to wipe up the A.
r laniic with my pocket handkerchie
He was so grieyed and so impatien
), and so resolute, (and, indeed, whe
one comes to think of it, twent
e years is long enough for an engag,
: ment) that finally dropped off m
3, waterproof and sea-sickDess, an
i stood up behind the pinnacle, an
]; was married before eight bells ths
L very morning ring and all. Dur
}, can produced it from a small caske
} where he had carried it n his wais
P coat pocket for the whole twent
e years
: az could never bear to put the Ii
e tie thing away" said he, looking
J, it tenderly.
q The next day we came to pOr
o with the sun shining and our flag
e flying. There was furry of goo'
, byes, hoisting of trunks, a WELDON
II ing of friends on the shore, and
4 glad hurrying to and fro.
g. Among the rest was an instant
o nesting of Miss Armour's irs c
d my cheek. and little cling of h'
o hand in mine, the vanishing Of
t smile-and she was gone, like Il
/ fash Of a FREELY, out of my sigl
IS forever. But wherever she Is, ar
d however she fares, she has the dai
o blessing of two middle-sged heart
n whose way to each other she unco
At sciously lighted.