Litchfield enquirer., 1874-04-23

head within her arms, and wept and whis- pered over 1t, as if those far back days had come again when the mothers arms were all the heaven he knew. That was the last time Owen urged his old request, that was the last time the grave eye found that sweet relief of tears upon 8 mothers breast
 We'll and bravely Owen had kept his resolution; while Alice, from the sombre rooms of the old Schoolhouse, listened in vain for the familiar step upon the pavement, waited in vain for the old clasI of the slight, firm fingers, hungered ir vain for the old pleasure his coming eyel gave. And be? He performed his old tasks just as he had performed them al ways.
 As the spring came on, she dropped and pined so sadly that they said she needed the sea-air, and they begged he1 to accept the invitation of an old school friend who had lately married and gone from her home in Scotland to stay with her husbands relations on the Welsh coast.
 ''It is to Llanvrar I am going, MT. Vaughan" said Alice, little wearily, as she told Owen of her approaching de pature, while he stood steadily before her, looking into her pale face. ''Papa says he thinks shall be close to your home. May take anything for you?' Is there anything I can do?"
 No; there was nothing, he told her, speaking with cold, tight lips, while his heart grew hot and wild with rebellion as he thought how If his home had been diff ferent. Alice would have frightened il now for his sake. And so they parted with simple hand-shake.
 While Alice was at Llanvriar there was a concert given by the patrons of the Ferybank school. One of the singers, g pretty, grave-looking girl of about twenty struck Alice particularly.
 ''It almost seems to me as if had seer her before, she said to Mr. Gwynne, hel host, 'sand yet know have not. l have not even seen any one very like her, and yet something in her eyes, I think, seems familiar to me. Who is she?"
 ''She is supposed to he rather 8 pecu. liar girl, was the answer; ''yet no one knows why, unless to be good and helpful to ones mother is peculiar; perhaps they think so in Ferrybank, for it isn't very common failing there. She has broth CT, though, who is peculiar really; a speci men of that rare wild-plant Genius, 6 specimen no one would expect to find drifted into a a wretched fsher-cabin or our shore. He was one of my uncle's proteges. wish Sir Bulkley were al home now that you might ask about him. My uncle is so proud to rehearse his ca. reer. I believe he is doing excellently now in England. and I suppose he deserves 1t, for he studied like any old don you like to mention. Miss Hope
 <'Did he?" asked Alice, but little interest. ed. ''Please tell me what is this girls name."
 ''Duddgha Vaughan. Her mother is g washerwoman, and lives in one of those desolate cabins on the shore, in the very midst of the fish odors; lasting dis. grace, think,-thoagh dare not say SC to Sir Bulkley,-to the son, who lives in abundance himself and leaves his mother and sister to earn their own livelihood iu such hole. You can see the cottage from our windows I will show it you such poor place it is."
 "What?"
 The word came from Alice in a whisper, and seeing she was anxious to hear, MT. Gwynne told her his version of Ovens story; while the words crept into her icy heart, and the music to which she had come to listen died unheard.
 That Owen should have been her truest friend for two years-her nearest and first friend, she repeated to herself, the flush of anger and modification rushing into her face at the thought to give her this pain at last!
 Day after day at that window of the house upon the wooded bank which over looked the fishing hamlet, and from which Alice could see the thatched cottage standing alone upon the beach, the girl would sit in a istless, dreamy pain. Could it be true? Could it all be true: Could that be Owen home? Then she would drop her work or book, and rise and gaze upon the cottage. in wonder ing, anxious doubt which yet could not prevent the longing tenderness shining in her eyes, so proud and yet so true. Could that be Owens home? Could Owens mother labor there, while he was living in ease and luxury far away? Could il be true? So the thoughts hotly ran, while yet-though Alice did not know it the very truth of her fear was plain in her own eyes while she gazed and gazed down upon Opens home.
 ''I think 1 will go over just once and see his mother" she said to herself over and over again during her stay at Llanv- riar; but strange, new feeling of shame, which she blushed to recognize, prevent ed her.
 Alice had been back at home week ol more, when Owen Vaughan came voIun- tarily once mora to the School-hous Dr. and Mrs. Hope were both out. and Alice sat alone. The familiar step. for which she had so often listened, was close behind her now, yet she never turn ed. How could she turn while that light half of anger. but half of passionate af- fection-burned in her eyes? He sat be- side her, grave and gentle as of old, but there was Q new tone in his voice when he told her the story of his life, new longing in his face when he told her how he loved her. In few simple words he told her, but these words she saw were uttered from his heart, and their truth and earnestness were like the truth and earn estness of prayer.
 ''I have determined many times that l would never utter these words to you. Alice," he said. ''I have struggled long and hard against temptation, but it has mastered me at last. Before you went away, looking so frail, I almost broke my resolution. But when you came back, st1ll looking weak and ill, and when I found you cold and strange to me. said, sI will listen to nothing now but my own heart. l will tell her the story of my ear ly life, and then how fervently I have loved her and must love her alwas. Twill tell her both these things, and leave my fate in her hands Alice, I read my an- swer in your face You dlsdain this love of mine. You send me from you, and it will be hard to trust or hope in any one again. Wait; do not say it yet. I thought I had prepared myself, but the darkness falls so sosuddenly."
 But Alice did say if. She told him she disdained the love he offered; and told him so in cold and scornful words which were to come back to her afterward with the crushing weight with which they fell upon his heart. And he watched the young, fresh lips from which the cruel words were falling, as if he were strug. ging to awake from some desolate dream.
 'sYou tell me this story of your child. hood, MT. Vaughan" she ended, with