The Placer herald., 1873-06-07
m, and she administered quieting pow

| The thought that her old friend might
have something particular to say to her, did
not really startle Matte, but she sat down
by the fire in the sitting parlor, and soon
David came in. He began to replenish the
fire, and seemed pleased that she had came
to see his wife. He seemed pleased, too,
when Bessie came and laid her head on
Mattie's shoulder; and then the tea table
was spread, and David looked as though
he expected her to pour out his cup of tea.
He said he hoped little sleep would do his
wife good, she had seemed so nervous all
day. Then they fell to talking of the
weather aud the depth of snow.
"Lets see; how long is it since that
sleighing party to Bound Bridge2" he said,
as they drew up to the fire again, after the
tea was over. "Just such cold time as
this, remember; and such fall of snow"
David looked in the fire a good five min
| utes.
"What now has become of Ellison ?" be
asked at length. casting sdelong glance at
Matte.
81 don't know, am sure;" and the color,
without reason, mounted to Mattie's face.
"He was good fellow" David went
on, "and-well' he began to smile
"bygones might as well be bygones." He
gave another quick sidelong glance, and
hesitated, rs though he were touching on
delicate ground; "weli, whatever secret
you may have, or whatever of preference
you had then, it is not, suppose, for me to
inquire into"
IL liked Ellison" Matte remarked, "but
perhaps no betb1 than Others"
David>took said, plainly, that women
were not expected to speak sincerely on
such topics as preferences, or love-making.
Matte made no reply; was it not he
himself who had suddenly forsaken her,
when words of love had passed between
them? And was not she, who was once
the merriest- hearted girl in the village, now
alone, and solitary in her life? But the
talk went on of old times and old acquaint-
ance, till David lit his lamp and went up to
bed.
The nurse was asleep, and Matte sat
down by the sick bed. Far in the night
Sarah awoke. Oh. you did not 60 away,
did you? am glad, she said. IL wanted
to speak to you-to tell you something
but it is 80 hard to say it. 1t would, per-
haps, make no difference with you-or
with hm-if never tell this-the wrong
did you-but think shall feel better to
acknowledge it all"
"What is it?' said Matte, believing
Sarah was little nighty.
at happened SO long ago-I thought so
much of David, or should not have done
it-have, mean, said what did,"
UCaid what . Rut uavar mind daar
you need not tell me; l am sure it was
nothing wong"
"Oh, it was--it was! and you will hate
me when tell you; but when one is going
to die, they want to make things right.
You know. | shall feel better to tell you
what it was that l did. Oh, dear me!
loved David, but I'm sure at that time
he meant to marry you, and made him
think you liked Ellison Huntley better
than you did him-and that you promised
to marry him.
"W6at made you think liked Ellison ?"
| Sarah turned her head impatiently on
her pillow. Could not Matte perceive?
"Oh, | told story" she went on, ,feebly.
81 made David think that you had told me
that you were engaged to Ellison. David
felt bad when told him; and was jealous
because he did,"
"You need not have told me iu.s I, you
did not want to, said Matte.
"No; but l determined to tell you.
Some people have said he sighted you; and
when | am gone, if he asks you to marry
him, then you would know, and feel to-
wards me as | deserve. would like to
make it right NOW; but have done you
wrong. Oh, Matte, what can say don't
expect you will forgive me, ,but-you will be
kind to my dear little Bessie, won't your
81 will always be kind TO Bessie, who
ever may have the care of her" said Mite.
"Go to sleep now, and don't feel worried
about anything"
With the dawning light Matte returned
home. Jane had kept the house warm,
and an armchair ready for her by the fire.
The day before she had sat there, and the
remembrance of the sleighing party had
brought back the happy days of her girl
hood; and she had thought of David always
choosing her, always seeking her, until abb
rubtly and suddenly he had left her and
married Sarah. The mystery was cleared.
"It is all for the best" she said, and tried
to think so.
A week from that time and Sarah Mill
ard was laid in her grave.
David had become accustomed to lonely
ireside; but now that bis wife bad gone
from the home-gone utterly from his life
a terrible sense of dreariness fell upon him.
1t was insupportable; and he deliberately
said to himself that he must get another
wife. All the village would have been
shocked had they known how soon he said
this. And was he unfaithful to the men,
ory of his dead wife? Had not she made
married life happy to him? He had truly
loved her, and now she could not come back
to him. He thought Of Matte. 1t was
true, be reflected. that she had preferred
Ellison to himself years ago. For some
reason or other, she had not married