Litchfield enquirer., 1874-04-23

reih calico gown, singing to herself as sae stood ironing in the eottsge kitchen, apd tlse other as she stood beside him now n her soft velvet dress, with the de- neAfe fern and crimson rosebud in it's bassom
 e Is she as fond of flowers as | ame, ask ei Alice. guessing nothing of these thoughts.
 sI cannot tell" said Owen, watching the white fingers as they touched caress- lngiy the brilliant petals, ''for she has not such flowers as these within her reach"
 There are some beautiful ferns to be found at Tenby," said Alice, in quick fear lest she had hurt bim ''Papa and have found some choice ones near there Does she know, l wonder? because-because your home Is not far from Tenby, you once told me i"
 l The glris voice grew unconsciously 8 little wlstful as she spoke, remembering how seldom he had told her anything of hls home, or of those whom she felt he loved so dearly; but just then her father called Owen into his study, and she was left to wonder She had a misty impress sion, though she could not tell how gath cred, that his mother did not like society, and that her daughter could rot leave her; but she knew that Owen had never de- finitely told her even this.
 "Does he think would not to hear, or does he not care for me enough to speak to me of those he loves? I think they must be very, very good," she sighed let. ting the flowers drop from her listless hands, ''and I seem shallow and fippant to him, and l vex him almost every time we talk together. Even those few words l said about the flowers pained him some- how. wish knew how; I wish-I sup pose women can never be deep and real and true, just quite like men. I wish I didn't care. Iwish hadn't said it.'
 And suddenly and pettishy she swept the flowers away, as If the sight and scent were painful to her.
 | But Alice had forgotten this passing cloud before the long and cheerful dinner was over. The servants had left the room, when Owen, sitting next to Alice and list ening happily to her bright voice, felt & sudden chill creep in upon the scene. The words of one Of the doctors guests struck 1 upon his quick. keen ear.
 | "Mnch as want tutor in my school before next term, could not engage Les lie because he cannot have been brought ! up gentleman. His father, hear, was village tradesman. But what looks particularely bad is that he does not tell me the fact himself. In many ways he would undoubtedly suit the post. He is | gentlemanly- looking, and speaks we'll, be- | sides having testimonials of the highest class. Still, there is that insuperable ob- l iection."
 ''Insuperable,' muttered the doctor as- | Sentingly. sI would not ent rain the idea, What do you think, Vaughan?'' If, said Owen, taking a long time to peel an atom of walnut, and looking down upon 1t very intently, ''if his words and acts, as well as his appearance, are those l of gentleman, cannot see what differ ence Is left for his birth to make. One can but look and act and speak as a gentleman, let ones birth be the noblest in the land; and if we miss none of these 1 things in each other, what need have we to question further?"
 l You speak warmly, Waugh. In my | place you evidently would engage this son d a village shopkeeper to help to educate nAblemen. and gentlemen's sons." "We men do not often question each l other on our birth and early life," said Owen, "and do not often volunteer to talk of it unquestioned. Then will 1t never be oAoo WO AA0J joASoC u4CA "Adb "C 41IlO them-respect or despise them, not &C., cording to the rank they bear, but accord ing to the part they act?"
 1 Better in theory than in practice, | Vaughan" said MT. Hope lightly. Still, my objection is the want of truthfulnes l at starting"
 "Many of our highest families" said Alice, ''have been founded by one man who has risen from the people, and they are proud to trace back to such at one l Why, because we are his contemporaries, l should we scorn hlm for itY'
 Suppose" said Owen, glancing rapid ly into Alices face, while his heart beat gratefully for her words Suppose, Dr. Hope, that one of your own masters had come to live among you, of lower birth even than this candidate you speak of, and had told you nothing of his antece- 1 dents, feeling that if he were suitable for for the post, that was all ,and that if he were not, you would soon discover it; SUD- l pose you had liked him and associated freely with him, giving him @ welcome al- ways in your house, and had then dis covered his history-should you blame him for his silence?'
 l "Blame him !" echoed the door hotIy, 'I should turn my back upon him prompt ly, 1 assure you, were he the finest scholar l in England
 Slowly and darkly the color rose in Ovens face. ''That is the general opin- ion, I suppose" he said; and Alice was not the only one who noticed the tone of pain in his voice.
 ''What should you do yourself, Mr. Yaughan?" asked Mrs. Hope merrily. "Come, next to the doctor himself, you I are the one most likely to be placed in such @ position"
 q think" said Owen quietly, sthat I should merely care what the man himself might be. It would signify as little to me what his father had been as what his son would be years and years afterwards. <"
 "Wait until scme one imposes upon you" returned the doctor ':He would not like 1t. would he, AGce?" he added. laughing up at her as she rose to follow her mother.
 Eagerly Owen waited for her answer.
 '.I do not think really low-born man could succeed in such an imposture, tried"
 The Christmas mirth had all died out of Ovens eyes when he joined Alice again. and her shy, kind words could not bring 1t back; neither did their memory bring tender smile to h1s lips when he recalled them afterwards.
 ''I will not go again. I will live my life apart from theirs. " he said, as he walk ed wearily though the silent streets to meet the midnight tram. "A friendship with deceit for its fountain cannot last. It is better it should grow no deeper than it is. Heaven knows it clings too closely about my heart tonight. y
 In love and quietness that Christmas Day was spent by Owen in his mothers cottage on the shore, but never had the want of comfort in his old house struck him with such aweight of suffering. ''Yet, g he sad, 1t would have been better to have known no life but this, rather than be living two, so far apart.
 Once more he urged his old entreaty; once more. and never so ardently as now: but still she gave the one answer which he could not neglect. No; she was hap pier so. And, with kiss. she bade him leave her there because it was better for