Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1872-03-16

BUTTERED BREAD.
CONCLUDED FROM YESTERDAY.

| "hether that bright face was Scared or
not, so long as she was alive, and we
could have her back once more. But she
burst out crying in a moment and pushed
me away.
Look at me- she said, in choked
voice. ''Am l your Sue still ?'
knew that her pain was not selfish
one. Dear child she only thought of us
DR.. Raymond waited for Us to talk a
few minutes, and then proposed oul
return. Sue gave last look at the poor
little cottage in which she had done and
suffered so much, catching sight of her
small face in the small looking-glass.
"You haven't any Sue to take home.
DOCTOR" with short, nervous laugh !;
"thls is another woman
'Yes," he said, tenderly, ga nobler and
lovelier one. 1on are ten times the wo-
man you were, Susan" and ne bent rev.
erently, and kissed the poor SCARED fore
head.
How l blessed him there never was a
happier family than ours that night. We
talked and laughed. and cried together,
until Aunt Avery carried Sue off to hel
own room, lest the excitement should
prove too much for her.
The next day she had plenty of callers
you may be sure Everybody in the vii
lage seemed to feel personal obligation
to our Sue, expressing great praise and
gratitude; but it was a great trial to meet
each new conner with the consciousness of
her altered face.
Our Sue never was particularly hand
some, but she had the loveliest complexion
in the world, and skin as delicate as a
baby's before her sickness.
;crl,. ToI
had been to New York on business and
could not call earlier. Every day during
Sues illness he had been to Dr. Raymond
or us tor news Of her.
We never thought him selfish or heart
less, but that was because he had never
been tested. Some persons are good only
because they have no chance to be any
thing else. We sad nothing about the
change in her-how the beauty he loved
had faded forever-for we supposed he
cared most for something deeper and
more valuable-that which could not be
taken away. think he suspected it, how
ever. Judging from his manner when she
came
She stood on the threshold one minute,
and looked at him with such an express
| sion-it made me catch my breath Then
ohC NNiil W iillii, anu I)ut Out lcI
Goodbye, john she said simply
but there was release for him, though
heart break for her, in the words. In an
instant she was gone.
| could not look up, but | heard his
angry. muttered words, as he strobe out
OF the room; then the gate banged to with
a sharp click, and / knew he would not
come again.
course we tried our best TO convince her
that she had lost nothing in John Foster
but everything in knowledge of his true
character. Her reason admitted it, but it
took her affection long time to die.
| Our life never seemed to get quite set
! tied again. Fan and En- were both married
that summer and was looking forward
to home of my own at Thanksgiving.
Alice was making long visit to board
ing-school friend, and the long ripples on
the surface of our quiet life were the oc-
casional visits of Fan and En- to the old
farmhouse.
As the time approached for my marriage,
| was not so absorbed in my own happi-
ness as to forget the loneliness in which
Sue was looking forward.
But new idea entered her mind one
Il scheme which she proposed to carry out.
Dr. Raymond had provided home for
| Mrs. Fosters children in his own house,
but the doctors wife. who had never
known any thing of the care of such young
folks, found the charge heavier than she
anticipated. She resolved to adopt them
herself; and no one had the heart to dis
| courage her project, for with it some of
har old lifa and phnp prtulnpss cnpp hack
The little orphans were installed in the
house where there was now so much room
for them.
So the winter passed away. while !
made daily calls on Sue, as my new home
was only short distance off, wondering
occasionally at the resignation with which
she accepted her prosaic life.
| Spring came, bringing the anniversary
of the day which had proved so momen-
tous n one to Sue; but no one mentioned
fshOw that she ever remembered it.
One hot summer afternoon, while Aunt
Avery placidly dozed over her knitting.
Sue and carried on sort of philosophical
discussion.
II have learned to live one day at
time, " she was saying, IL have no past or
future tense in the grammar of my life.
always used to hurry over the presentin
anticipation of what was to come"
A little sigh crept into the words, check
ed by knock at the front door, which
startled us, for the only sounds we had
heard for an hour were our own voices
and the singing of the locust in the hot
sunshine.
"Our neighbors generally found the
kitchen entrance most convenient, and,
anticipating call of ceremony, Sue an
swered the knock.
| heard a rich. heavy voice, ask,
"Is Miss Thayer at homer"
And mans firm step entered our little
parlor.
1t seemed great while that sat alone,
listening to the murmur of voices, grave
and earnest, and at last Sue came to me
with traces of tears on her face.
"Only think !" she said excitedly, Mrs.
Frost's son-that she thought was lost at
sea a year ago---has come home again,
want you to see him"
followed her without word, and was