Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1872-03-20

done IT,"
" Nonsense Edy would not do 50 foolish
thing. | think very likely they are misdi.
rected. It's Edith's number, believe"
My poor heart, IL fell away below zero. |
answered, " Yes, believe it is. But, Aunt
Maria, perhaps there is no mistake; perhaps
they are mine
Not at all likely and, if they we're sent
to you, hope you would not be 20 selfish as
to want them when Edith goes so much moro
than you do"
1 looked at them longingly teudery, and
then answered, could share them with
her, Aunt Maria, if she wished me to-
Well, well, 60 sec to the children leave
them here till Edy secs them very likely it's
al a mistake"
dropped the box on the toile,-iablc. aud
flew up stairs but not so fast that Aunt Ma.
ria's last words were lost; they sent chill
all over me What a fearful temper that
childs got"
o why would she misunderstood me2
Why Why did my father leave met |
dropped my head on the upper stair and cried
silently long, long time, until sweet little
May curled her arms around my neck, saying
Kitty, my Kitty cousin, wake up and be
loved
Yes, little May, love is better than gloyrs
after all love me all you can Aud thvs
grew happy again.
That evening uncle took them al y the
gpcrrxstb-af,GS iba chilAfen we're asIc- -
thore vas no sewing to be dom 7 ihouaar Of
iae piano aud slipped down stairs Attn.
| enjoyed looking At the Zoo pietarss and
books and everything in the dim lgh, and
then ! lust touched the KEYS a little. nj frat.
| could not resist the impulse my fingers
would slip from key to key, and, at last, as no
one seemed to notice, | forgot Aunt Maria
entirely, and played and played all the sweet
old pieces | used to love, because father
praised them. almost thought heard again
the clear notes Of his flute joining me, and
closed my eyes and made believe we were
together again in the cottage where we we're
30 happy. Something made my eyes epeD,
and by the door stood the same gentleman |
had seen in the morning; he said. he was
passing and heard the piano; thought per-
haps Miss Edith was there | think he no.
ticed my fear, for he smiled and asked me to
play on.
3" don't thing I'd better, sir. Edith is
away. | didn't know it was so late"
How the words seemed to stumble over
each other; felt so awkward, thought he
looked amused, and perhaps was laughing at
me aud before knew it, I was making a
baby Of myself again. with great tears roll
ing over my blushing face. At that he came
close to me, and said in the tenderest voice.
" Don't be troubled, Miss Kitty, am not
stranger in the house little May has told me
many a sweet story about you I'm glad to
see you now, but don't play if you are tired
won't you stay and talk with me few min
utes ?"
Yes, if you are not laughing at me-"
"Why, | never dreamed Of it."
| knew in a moment he was honest with me
and when he asked why played with my eyes
shut, told him all about father and our pref.
~ home, end how easy il was to see it when
my eyes were shut, and how longed to go to
it sometimes; and that in my sleep | often
heard the brook near it, as it used to gurgle
over the stones and through the rushes and
although this was very grand and beautiful, it
seemed like a strange life to me. | often
wished | might 90 back instead Of forward,
for all my other life was SO lovely and bright
and cozy, and this was cold. | tried to be
happy, but one can't help missing fathers,
said.
should think not" he answered, and
seemed so interested and kind could have
told him anything | was so glad to think
he would be my cousin.
! Aunt Maria said the next morning that the
gloves were doubtless misdireeted, but Edith
wanted me to accept pair Of them. When
[ thanked her at night she blushed. re.
membered having heard that very generous
people disliked to receive thanks.
II was long time before saw Mr.. Ray
mond again, only as | went to the sitting
room sometimes to get May toput her to bed;
once be asked me to stay long enough TO play
something, but Aunt Maria answered for me,
that | was no musician, and felt mortified
that he had ever heard me. Little May used
often to bring papers Of bonbons and nice can
dies, saying that Mr.. Raymond bade her share
them with me, and once she brought bunch
Of English vioets and said Mr.. Raymond sent
them to me. How happy | was aiterward for
days After that we often saw him in the
park. One day he said be must help me take
care Of the children, they were so frolicsome
he filled their pockets with sweets and we had
a right merry time. That day he asked me
If had used up the gloves yet, and when |
wondered at his meaning he said, Did you
not get the box Of gloves sent you, Kitty ~
No. yes-they were for me then 2" How
happy felt.
"Of course they were; you failed to get
tn en- ?"
Aunt Maria thought they we're for Edy,
but no matter I'm glad they were mine"
laughed with real pleasure.
" Aud you had them taken from you 2"
lie spoke so siernly it terrified me. Edith
gave me one pair, Mr.. Raymond; this pair;
seen
Then he took my hand and held it Just as
father used to, and his voice sounded like
fathers ittlo and he said, but | could
never tell what he said. 1 seemed to walk
home on air The children hoated around
me as though they were borne along with
wings. Mr. Raymond went to the door with
us, aud said he should see my uncle that day,
then he lifted his hat, and his eyes took in
my whole soul aud bore it away from me.
When Edith met me in the hall looking so
pale, and asked me what all this meant, |
could only say, " didn't know bat it seemed
like heaven" think it was in part heaven,
for Ediths scorn or Aunt Maria's anger failed
to disturb it. Little May and nestled in
the glory of it all the afternoon, and when
later my uncle sent for me to 60 to him, in
the library, almost flew. | heard him say
as he drew me to him, :" | trust you, Ray
moud, to make her happy she is the orphan
Of my only brother. Then knew that my
undemonstratiye uncle loved me, for his
brothers sake.
Aud now, | have no cause to regret the
lost gloves, for am very happy, and have as
many as want.
There is heroic innocence, as well as
heroic courage.
Lies are hiltless swords, which cut the
hands that weld them.
He is weak man that cannot get angry,
hst wise man who won't.