The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1872-11-14

summers day dream, by all, unless
it might be n solitary warm-hearted
man like the New Zealander. To
tell the truth, was little sorry for
him. Evidently, life had not brought
him all it might; and he was hur CRY
for the love and confidence that had
never been his. SO 1 was afraid he
would miss this little spark of girl.
hood and warm youth, and find the
void deeper when it had gone out.
10 the very last day, Rosa kept
her place by my chair; and to the
very last the New Zealander kept his
place by her, when no one younger
stepped in to carry her off, which
was pretty often, to be sure. Then
ne always quietly went away him
self, with a kind of grave regret in
his face On this last morning, Miss
Armour had just left us along with
a young lawyer, to drop oranges
and lemons among the steerage pas
sengers, when l noticed the New
Zealander looking after her with Il
sadder regret than usual--almost n
pain in his eyes. He had such
handsome dark eyes | could see
that without my glasses.
"Now," said 1 TO myself, "I hope
he isn't going to get sofia sensible
gentlemanly, agreeable man like
him, and quite old enough to be her
father And 50 1 locked at him to
see if he was, when suddenly he
turned upon me.
cat least you might have written,
Agatha Wells, said he, sharply.
l started, as you may think, to
hear may own name spoken so IA
miliarly by a stranger; when, look
ing again, behold | saw beneath
the bronze and under the wrinkles
and behind the beard, a 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. lu the
letter he said, what he had said be-
fore with his eyes-yes, those same
beautiful eyes-that | was the choice
of his heart and the desire of his
life.
"Answer me" said he; 81 cannot
wait till l see you"
so | answered. long, foolish let.
ter, though tLcro was no need OF
writing; Tor he had read all | could
say long before, with those eyes OF
his. Then | 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 hac
been opened and the judgment set
came this sudden reproachful ques
ton up from the buried past. | fair
ly caught my breath, as | turned
back my eyes, and looked him in the
fac3 again.
"Forgive me-" said he directly, il
gentler tone. 81 did not mean tc
speak. You brought it out will
your eyes-that questioning turn
was so familiar. OF course you wer'
quite right, and never blamed you
| never meant you should see M
again; but the temptation to fec
myself beside you, only to be in the
soothing charm of your presence
was too great. 1t has been bless
ing shall carry with me all the res
of NY life
He was rising to go away, but
put out my hand, 81 did write
Duncan Ashley" said l "the lette
must have gone wrong"
"You did! You wrote !" he cried
sinking back in his chair again, an'
looking at me eargerly. What di'
you say"
"There was only one thing | coulc
say; and | said that" [ answered
blushing as though l had just writ
ten the letter.
A middle-aged woman in hooC
and Waterproof But, dear me. /
was only ny face that was middle
aged, alter all ; my heart was young
and silly as ever. And as for Dun
can face, the marks of care, anC
thought, and time, fell of, leaving
in it only the eternal youth OF love
1t was the old story OF a los
letter, and the older story of a prouc
man believing himself rejected anC
Inundated, and fleeing to the end
of the earth with his pain.
"Twenty precious years wasted!
said my New Zealander. "We vii
not be separated another day Will
we both live. There is a cleraymal
among our passengers; and we vii
be married this very hour"
That was so like his headlong de
cisions Certainly he did not nee
a sober second thought like mo 10
ballast. "That cannot be ! / cried
"The ceremony wouldn't be lego
without license or som ething. An
l would by no means do anything S
Sensational and conspicuous"
"But, bless your heart. | Nigh
as well have tried to wipe up the Al
lantic with my pocket handkerchie
He was so grieved and SO impatient
and so resolute, land, indeed, whe