The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1872-10-10

/ started, as you may think, TO hear
my own name spoken so famillarly by
stranger; when, looking again, behold,
I saw beneath the bronze, and under the
wrinkles and behind the beard, face
that twenty years before was the dearest
in the world to me-the face of Duncan
Ashley We parted one day expecting
to meet on the next but thatevening he
was called away, and wrote instead Of
coming. In the letter he said what he
had said before 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; al cannot
wait till l see you"
SO answered. long foolish letter,
though there was no need OF writing
for he had read all 1 could say long be-
fore, vita those eyes of his. Then l
watched and waited for him, but never
saw him or 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 reproachful question up from
the buried past. 1 fairly caught my
breath as l turned back my eyes and
looked him in tie face again.
Forgive me-" said he, directly, in
gentler tone. "I did not mean to speak ;
you brought it out with your eyes that
questioning turn was so familiar. OF
course you were quite right, and 1 never
blamed you. never meant you should
see me again, but the temptation to feel
myself beside you, only to be in the
soothing charm of your presence, was
too great. 1t has been blessing shall
carry with me all the rest of my life"
He was rising to go away, but 1 put
out my hand. "I did write, Duncan
Ashley" said 1; "the letter must have
gone wrong"
"You did.-you wrote" !" he cried,
sinking back in his chair again, and
looking at me eagerly. "What did you
say?"
There was only one thing 1 could
say, and l said that" answered, blush
ing as though L had Just written the
letter.
A middle-aged woman in hood and
waterproof! But, dear me it was only
my face that was middle-aged, after all
my heart was as young and silly as ever.
And as for Duncan's face, the marks of
care and thought and time fell off, leav-
ing in it only the eternal youth of love.
1t was the old story of a lost letter,
and the older story of proud man, be-
lieving himself rejected and humiliated,
and fleeing to the ends Of the earth with
his pain.
"Twenty precious years wasted w said
my New Zealander. I'VE will not be
separated another day while we both
live. There is clergyman among our
passengers, and we will be married this
very hour"
That was so like his headlong deois-
ions! Certainly he did need a sober
second-thought like me for ballast.
"That cannot be-" 1 cried "the cere-
mony wouldn't be legal without license
or something. And would by no means
do any thing so sensational and con-
spicuous."
But, bless your heart might as well
have tried to wipe up the Atlantic with
my pecket-handkerchief. He was so
grieved, and so impatient, and so reso-
lutte land, indeed, when one comes to
think of it, twenty years is long enough
for an engagement, that 1 finally drop
ped off my waterproof and my sea-sick-
ness, and stood up behind the pinnacle,
and was married before eight bells that
very morning-ring and all. Duncan
produced it from a small casket, where
he had carried it in his waistcoat-pocket
for the whole twenty years.
al could never bear to put the little
thing away" said he, looking at it ten
derly.
The next day we came to port, with
the sun shining and our flags flying.
There was furry Of good-bys, a hoist
ing Of trunks, welcoming of friends
on the shore, and glad hurrying to and
fro.
Among the rest was an instants nest
ling of Miss Armour's lips on my cheek,
and little cling of her hand in mine, the
vanishing of smile, and she was gone
like the flash of FREELY, out of my sight
forever. But wherever she is. and how
ever she fares, she has the daily blessing
of two middle-aged hearts, whose way to
each other she unconseiously lighted.