The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1872-10-11

w CVnlo 10 bhlu, but muImuTeu
dropping at my feet again, and smiling
. up, as though she had got where she beSl
loved to be, Just such smile as she would
have given 10 tho stokers down In the
engine room, or 70 the ships cat. Bat A
was lovely TO look upon while II lasted
and we middle.aged people have learned
, 10 warm ourselves In any chance raw Of
sunlight, without stopping TO consider
whether Il is,likely 70 be perpetual. -.
This time the bit Of sunshine did not
stay long, for there came up an artist with
his sketch book; and when Miss Armour
had sufficiently admired his graphic pen.
cllIngs Of the captain and tho quarter.
master, and the sea.sick occupant Of an
upper berth, 1t was time TO throw the log:
and so he bore her oil, 10 find out by her
own eyes whether we were actually going
at the rate OF thirteen knots, Or only
twelve and halt. NV u r
That was how the days went, The
passengers read and paced the deck, play.
cd games and guessed riddles, and were
always hungry; the pilot stood ready and
llrm ut the wheel; the sailors ran up and
down about the rigging like oyergrOwn
SPIDERS, and were forever securing and
scru6bing, tying and untying, drawing up
and letting down. Thus at last VIC had
come safely almost to our desired haven.
With fair sailing we were only one day
out from port; and, fond as we had grown
TO 30 OF each other, we were getting i'm.
patient TO part. .3sf7gRS
Miss Armour, during all the voyage,
had kept on as she begun, beguiling every
one with her trick Of lip and eye. They
ran after her like boys at the string Of u
Kite. We'll, they had nothing better to do
Just then;i and when she had faded out,
as the rainbow fades, / made no doubt
she would DO Os easily forgotten, or only
remembered as midsummer's day dream,
by all, unless 1t might be solitary, warm.
hearted man like the Now Zealander. To
tel the truth, | was little sorry for him.
Evidently lie had not brought him all 1t
might; and he was hungry for the love
and confidence that had never been his.
SO l was afraid he would miss this little
sparkle Of gtrlhoOd 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 placeby her
when no one younger stepped in to carry
her oil, which was pretty often, to be sure,
Then, be always quietly went away him.
sell, with kind Of grave regret in his
lace. On this last morning, Miss Armour
had just left us along with young law.
yer, to drop oranges and lemons among
The steerage passengers, when l noticed
the New Leaiander looking after her with
n saddcr regret than usual-almost pain
in his eyes. He had such handsome
dark eyesl I could see that without my
glasses. a VI ~
Nov" said 1 to myself, 81 hope he
isn't going to get sofia sensible, gentle
manly, agreeable man like him, and quite
old enough 10 be her father |" And so l
looked at him to SEQ il he was, when sud.
denly he turned upon me.
AT least, you might have written Aga:
thu Wells I" said he sharply. tliF n Il
started, as you may think, to hear my
own name spoken so Familiarity by q stran.
ger; when, looking again, behold! saw
beneath the bronze, and under the
wrinkles and far behind the beard, face
that twenty years before, was the dearest
In the world to me-the face Of Duncan
Ashley! Weparted one day expecting
to meet on the next; but that evening he
was called away, and wrote instead OF
coming. In his letter he said, what he had
said before with his eyes-yes, those same
beautiful cyes-that was the choice Of
his heart and the desire of his life. i
ANSWER me" said he, II cannot wait
till l see you"
So ! answered. long, foolish letter,
though there was no need Of writing: for
he hud read all l. could say long before,
with those eyes Of his. Then watched
and waited Tor him; but never saw him
or heard one word more II you are
young, you can imagine the slow dying
out oil hope and expectation, and II you
arc 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. fairly caught my breath,
as turnedback.my eyes, aud looked him
in the face again.
"Forgive me-" said he directly, in a
gentler tone. II did not mean to speak.
You brought 1t out with your eyes; that
questioning turn was so familiar. OIL
course you were quite right, and l never
blamed you. never meant you TO sec
me again; but the temptation TO ieel my.
self beside you, only to be in The soothing
charm Of1your presence, was too great.
1t has been blessing shall carry with
me all thercst of my life"
lie was rising to go away, but / put
out my hand. II did write Duncan Ash.
ley" said l; "thc letter must have gone
wrong" rrsg .s. 70.
"YOu die You wrotcw he cried, sink.
ing back in his chair again, and looked OF
me eagerly. "What did you say"
"Thcro was only one thing l could say,
and said that, II answered, blushing as
though l had just written the letter.
A middle.agcd woman in hood and
water proof But, dear me II was only
my face that was middle.agcd, after all;
my heart was as young and silly as ever.
And rs for Duncan's face, the marks OF
care, and thought, and time fell of, leav-
ing in it only the eternal youth Of love.
It was the old story Of lost letter, and
the older story OF proud man believing
himsclfrcjGCted and Inundated, and fee.
ing to the ends Of tho earth with his pain.
Twenty precious years wasted!" said
my New Zealander. eve will not be
separated another day while we both live
There Is clergyman among our paesen-
gers; and We will be married this very
hour" JEAN I
That was SO like his headlong decisions!
Certainly he did need a soblr second
thought like me for ballast. "That cannot
beH' | cried. "The ceremony wouldn't be
legal without license or something. And
l would. by,no means do anything so sensa-
tional and conspicuous"