Litchfield enquirer., 1873-04-17

covered bank; of feeling soft hands ciaf- eyes darkened with anxiety anxiety for him. He raised the hand that had been so chafed, and passing it across his lips softly; and it seemed to him that the odor of violets inged about 1t still. A little while longer he lay and watched the cut ting of the stick, till the boy, turning sud- denly, said, 'sHallo !' and began chamber ing upon the bed. ''You're to hush, you know" he said, physician. .But you're better. I'm iol- ly gladi Now must go and tell" 'sWait one moment, Tony" said Mr. Caperne. Tell me what its all about - and how long I've been here, where is shere'? It's not the inn2"
 The boy laughed, and then brought his lips together with an odd contortion. "rm not to laugh" said he,-'I don't think I ought to speak. You're sure it won't hurt you?"
 ''Quite sure. :" replied Mir. Caperne. "Well then" said the boy, 'syou Gshed me out of the Cor, and broke you're arm. And you'd have been all right long since, but they said fever super-something O, haven't you talked nonsense. just! There now, you're gong red. l shall so catch it!'
 ''One word more," said Mir. Caperne. ''is this you're home?"
 'eTo be sure it is" replied Tony. "Ah!" sighed Mir. Caperne.
 The lad jumped down from the bed with as little hustle as was consistent with ting the door gently after him; but the nnWnnfo6 Oor%nns, Hack Mr. He- perne, for he lay with his eyes closed dreaming.
 "You fished me out of tine Cor, and broke your arm"
 He remembered it all now,-the shap,
 sudden pang, the sparks before his eyes, the roaring mill-wheel. How long was 1t ago? he wondered. The trees in the wood
 were bare then,-would they be green nox And hia RistHrs aRa thsf hif..,ip pBBlf BJfs fins of that? Mr. Caperne had painted flow CTS before, but never with so careful . touch. A vision rose before him of the tidgety landlady in his room; of big duster, and brooms, and clumsy fingers, that left no corner untouched, and re- spected no lock. He grew hot as he thought of it, and of his own helplessness. Then all at once blackbird began to sing in tree outside the window, and he was back in the woods again, dreaming.
 Who talks of the monotonous drearix ness of a sick chamber? MT. Caperne would have spurned the notion if he had not been too utterly languid and lazy for SO much exertion. Day after day he felt he felt the latent life coming back to him as he lay there, dreaming. Pleasant dreams, but foolish perhaps. who knows He never took the trouble to consider. He had visions of gentle old lady with gray curls and a rather foreign air, whom Tony introduced as Granny" and who purred about him in his convalesence as though her whole heart were in his recov~ cry. He remembered trying to utter his thanks to her; breaking down signally, and then feeling his lips silenced by the touch of her kind old hand upon them.
 'EYou will say no thanks, nso,a fls, "said the old lady, stroking his hair as if he had been a child. "You saved our boy: and, madcap as he IS, we can never repay you for that"
 "f might see my kind host" pleaded Mir. Oaperne, stand assure him that am sensible of his hospitality"
 That, you preceive, is impossible, since my son is from home, said the old lady. "He is in Scotland, and will probably re- main there for the next month, so that my patient must be content with his nurse for the present. Now go to see after lun- cheon.
 MT. Caperne looked after her with smile, and the gray curls that always shook and quivered when she talked seemed to have sort of halo round them. He was dimly happy. dThe thought of his lonely wandering life, and of returning to It, did come upon him sometimes with strange sinking of the heart, but he shook 1t off. He knew whose hand gathered the flowers that decked his table. They brought sort of mist into the room, out of which there came again to him the shadowy touch of & soft hand upon his own. He got to know in a roundabout way at what hour Aunt Lucy was accus- toned to gather these flowers, and then he never rested until they let him get up and ait at the window, where he could see her without being seen.
 One day, in his absorption, Mir. Ga perne bent forward to the front of the window, and Aunt Lucy looked up sud- denly and saw him. It might have been the pathetic appeal of his pale face and the coat-sleeve which hung empty; at any rate, Lucy waved her hand with smile that moved him like sweet music. After this he used to look out for her ea- gerly, and that little recognition grew to be the event of his day, the one great cen- Ire round which all other circumstances clustered vaguely, insignificant accesso- ries, until the day came when he was to be allowed to go down stairs for the first time.
 
 Aunt Lucy was standing beside an open French window when Mr. Caperne went into the drawing-room, and he knew at once that the easy-chair drawn up near her was for him, for the man whose past had been hard battle single-armed, upon whose life for many weary year had fal- len no touch of gentle fingers no whisper of womanly solicitude. There was rose in the bosom of her light Spring dress, and tall arum thrust forth it's blossom from behind her.
 Mir. Caperne saw all this ill his one hur- ried glance. He will see it again many time In days to come. It became for him one of those photographs which the brain has trick of taking for our ceaseless tor ment or happiness She came forward to meet him, holding out her hand, and in his eagerness he quilted the arm on which 1 he leaned. He was weaker than he had l thought. The carpet grew unsteady be- meath his feet; the tall arnum multiplied itself dozen times, and, but for that out stretched hand, he knew that he must 1 have fallen,
 'You have been imprudent, ? said Lucy, quietly. My mother should have kept 1 you prisoner little longer, though I know how weary the days must be-"
 It was the voice he had heard in the l wood, nearer to him now. speaking to him, and about him.
 ''Weary!' repeated Mir. Caperne, slow ly. 'I think that they have been the hap piest days ever spent.
 She turned from him half smiling, as Tony gave vent to 8 whistle of boyish contempt for such an idea of happiness.
 '1n that case it was lucky dropped into the Cor" said Tony. ''But it is an odd notion. I know shouldn't like it;