The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1873-04-11

busy with the pasta at least nothing
but the people. 1 suppose that pretty
young woman we just passed, in the
bright-yellow dress, was little thing in
short frocks when / went away-what
lovely eyes che hadl"
=" Yes; that was lilly Morton; she was
n slip of girl, only nine, when you left
the village. She is nineteen now, and
WIFE"
"How old it makes me feel!' MUIR
INJURED Blanche.
eyes, you look old, answered, de-
murely. "I should take you to be al
most twenty if l didn't know you"
"Hushl l won't have any of your
flattery, just as I'm beginning to fancy
myself improving, too; there's MISS
Hoxie's little red house by the mill
stream, and the bit of wooden bridge.
"Miss Hoxie is dead" L responded;
cleft all her money to Bessie Irow-
bridge. Bessie is older than you, very
rich, and people say" L whispered,
"that she worships the very shadow OF
=" I nodded toward Uncle Dash.
was not prepared for the look that
came into the face of my friend. She
crimsoned, bit her lip, caught nervously
Mt the ribbon that confined her hat, and
/ thought, as / turned away, my confu-
sion almost equal TO her own, that there
were tears in her eyes. We were silent
after that, and Uncle Dash pointed out
the new mill, the recently-built steeple,
and the various improvements. When
we arrived at the parsonage, he helped
us out of the carriage, and with the
words, "Take her into the parlor, An
ne" led the horse by Il side-path to the
barn.
We stopped moment i'll the brown,
old-fashioned porch, to praise the roses
hanging in great clusters from trellis
and pillar: then we went into the wide,
cool hall, filed with the odor of the
honeysuckle that chung to the garden
walls.
Nothing is changed, half-laughed,
half-sighed Blanche, looking at tho solid
furniture and all its somber surround
ings ooh, dear, how things do need
tightening up! Anne, Daisy Lodge is
paradise to this. How / wish you would
let me stay therel It's cosy little rooms
just suited me. I'm going back. A"
"Not to-day, my dear; so try and be
contented, l said. Make yourself rs
happy as possible while l so up and see
Aunt Hannah.
Eyes, I'll read cheerful chapter in
the Book of Martyrs, " she reioined.
Aunt Hannah was very i'll. / saw that
at q glance. She scarcely lifted her Ian
guild eyes as l went toward her. She
was little woman, and the drapery of
the great easy-chair almost hid her
from sight. After languid welcome,
she said:
81 thought heard another voice"
eyes, aunt" | replied; "my friend
Blanche Heath was at my house on Il
visit, SO | brought her with me"
"Good gracious, Anne that horrid
Heath girl p cried Aunt Hannah, her
little yellow face puckering i'll q hundred
Wrinkles, and the borders of her cap
shaking with sudden Indignation. q
did hope she'd never come back. She
amt a-going to stay L trust? You know
| never could bear her"
"She must stay as long as | do,
aunty," l said, quietly.
"Of course; you always do have your
way, but tell you what, I'll get well in
hurry. 1t don't suit my notions to
have her here young, wild thing. and
your uncle single man. Oh, | under
stand it all-the designing creature!'
" now, don't You worry bit, Aunt
Hannah, said /, determined not to be
annoyed. "Blanche is quite sure Of be-
ing an old maid and L don't think Uncle
Dash will ever trouble himself To ask
any woman to have him. Besides,
Blanche is even now too young and too
pretty to be cooped up forever in this
old-fashioned place.
"Humphl you mean it's too good for
her, or you ought to. l don't forget her
tricks, or the trouble she brought on
folks, calling the rector names, riding
wild horses, and dressing like II circus
woman, the hussy! However, as l said
afore, you will have your way; only
there1l be talk; you know what a
place this is for gossip" and back she
sank helplessly, adding, querulously
Do make me some Cruel. I'm starv-
ing, and | can't eat thing that Grace
cooks.
Poor old Grace! she had outlived her
usefulness, and Uncle Dash would not
for moment hear of changing her for n
more competent cook but i'll this mat
ter l was as helpless as she, for Cruel
was something | could not make. Gus
tards, and pies, and bread and all sorts
of ordinary cooking, L could manage,
but not Cruel SO | hurried down stairs
to Blanche She was an adept in prep
arations of that kind for she had lived
years with an invalid aunt so, at my
request, she went into the kitchen and
donned one of Aunt Hannah's white
aprons, turned her sleeves over the fair,
round arms, and went to work She
stood over the fire, stirring in the oat.
meal, when Uncle Dash came into the
kitchen for some paste, and stopped
short ut sight of her.
Came has put me into harness, she
said, laughing and blushing. L was
looking at him, and was conscious of a
quicker beating of the heart, n strange,
suppressed triumph at the expression in
his eyes.
"What does it mean?" 1 said to my
self.
looked back at her her glance was
fixed upon the white mass she was so
busily stirring.
81 see," said Uncle Dash, resuming
his usual manner" useful occupa-
ton" took down his paste-bottle and