Ellsworth American., 1874-07-09

ana SO tue new day drew to q close,
like those that had gone before, and
should follow after it.
So four years slipped away, and
then-Rory came home, suddenly,
without word of warning he wanted
to give them surprise, he said. And
a huge surprise it was; only, after
little, he had dropped so completely
into his old place, that it seemed as if
he had never been away. So said un.
Gle jacob.
"You amt bit changed, not bit,
went on the old man. You're brown
enough-yes, but then you always was
coffee-color, you know, Rory, hey?"
"Yes, know" answered Rory, re-
turning the old mans laugh. "But l
am changed, for al! that, uncle Jaco b.
Ask Celia.
"Well, we'll, perhaps you be, per-
haps you be" said the old man. MY
eyes amt what they were-nor my
glasses, neither. shall have to buy
a new pair, guess"
But the change in his nephew was
one which no new pair Of glasses-nor
even Of eyes, unless they had been
Celia 's-would have enabled uncle
Jacob to see.
"S'pose We shan't keep you long"
continued he, presently. you'll be
in hurry to get back again.
mo, uncle Jacob" answered Rory !;
ave come home for good. l mean to
try and turn to account here what I've
managed to pick up out there"
"Aha! didn't l say so? Going to
do Just as his father did," chuckled
the old farmer, oblivious apparently,
that neither his fathers agricultural
nor matrimonial ventures had thriven
in transplanting. "But you'll have to
go back, though, to fetch your bride.
When's it to be, eh, lad! when's the
wedding coming OFF,"
The wedding!" repeated Rory,
dreamilv; then, with a start and
smile, ''Oh, some time next year, cx-
pect."
Then it really wa to be-" though
Celia, as she watched Rory's uncon-
she should have been the one to send
him half across the world to find wife
| in this unknown cousin. who other
wise would doubtless have remained
unknown to him forever. Well, she
did it for the best, she told herself,
so often before, but this time she could
not thus console herself quite SO readl-
ly. And lust then Rory's eyes turne d
suddenly full upon her, and she blush
ed guilty, and got up and went out
into the kitchen, remembering all at
once that Nancy Walsh was a raw girl.
and was probably spelling whatever she
/ had in hand.
Two or three days passed by much
as OF Old.
''Do you expect anybody, tonight,
Celia!' asked Rory one evening.
No. not that know Of answered
Celia, rather in surprise. Why
Nothing, only as DR.. Heath WAS
here last night, and Lewis Sunderland
the night before, and Mark Wilson the
night before that, was wondering if
you had one for every evening in the
week"
What nonsense, Rory !" said Celia,
turning away in search of something
in her work. basket
"Is it nonsense?" said Rory. "I'am
sure hope 80, for then we have
prospect of quiet evening
A very quiet evening they seemed
to have a prospect of, for it was
long time before either of them spoke
a word. They sat opposite each 9th
er, with the light stand between, Celia
knitting, and Rory lazily watching her
quick little fingers fly in and out among
the needles. Both, perhaps. thought
of just such an evening four years be
! fore.
There's your moth back again.
Celia" said Rory, suddenly.
Celia looked up with a start, first at
Rory, and then at large moth, which,
in fact, was circling uncertainty round
the candle-wick.
"Yes, but he's grown shy he'll be
Off again in a minute" said the girl,
nnconsciously following out the
thought in her mind.
What odds will you bet on that: z"
asked Rory.
"Betting is wrong" said Celia de-
murely.
"Not between cousins" returned
Rory with equal gravity. "This coral
headed pin of mine to-let me see-to
that rose in your hair, that Mr.. Moth
stays and singes himself!
Celia did not refuse, and silence
consenteth. They kept quiet and
watched and waited.
Not for very long. The winged
slmpleton advanced, retreated, advanc-
ed nearer, executed a few zigzag
flights and eccentric curves, then made
blind dash at the flame, and fell
scorched on the table.
"Well!" said Rory. coming round
to Celia, and his eyes looking straight
into hers, while he detached the rose.
That required time and patience, for
it was q thorny bud, and by the time
Rory had finished, one of his fingers
was bleeding.
"You pay dear for your whistle"
said Celia.
"No dearer than l expected" an
swered Rory. 81 knew it was briar-
rose," and again he looked at her.
He did not 60 back to his former seat
then. but drew chair beside her, and
leaned his elbow on the table where
the moth was still feebly futtering.
"Poor old fellow! ]" said Rory look
ing down at it with q queer smile,
"come and die in honey" And he
picked it up and placed il on the rose
leaves. "Moths like roses" too, he
said.
"YOu're thinking Of butterflies"
said Celia, knitting away most indus
triously..
whats the difference" asked Ro-