The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1875-10-16

precious packet of her friend, and ran-laI
AS for dear life ont 81 the wood, down lht
steep hill side into the high road between lh'
meadows
On shcs ran mill she came l0 u cottage
threw open the garden gate, ana sped up IN
path for II shelter.
Two men were Standing in the porch, ont
a white.harcl patriarch, Leaning on u sian
and the 0,her-Florencc Giey's guide OF lh'
forest. Their mutual recognition ". instant
aud Florence, pale with fright, sinking upoi
the porch bench nearly IN a swO0n, held on
her hand to this stranger rs to some ole
friend.
He took the little hand for II moment ii
his own "IIow can help you;" he asked
81 have lost something 50 precious" gasp
ed Florence: so lrrecOverably precious
And OH was d coward. But thyt dreadful
-murderous-red erchieied-icartul
t She shuddered and lost her breath upon al
, appalling noun-'tr frightened me So | drop
ped everything
r She told him pre- emily more cohcrcntly OF
her experience. He started OFF in search Of
the pictures, while the old man conducted
Florence into his cool, dim sumner parlor
and having seen her safely ensconced in the
depths of the ancient haii'clolh sofa, brought
| her glass of milk strengthened with home
/, made wine.
Il. In less than an hour the young man return
ed, not having encountered the pcddler, or
recovered the parasol, but bringing the "ir.
recoverably precious package. FlOreAce
thanked him with all her heart She felt
herself constrained, although an internal
voice suggested that her mother would never
/ forgive the imprudenCe, to allow this young
man, whose wagon was conveniently in wait
ing, to drive her to N. Her errand thus
accomplished, she allowed him, by the post
! beautiful winding road that ever threaded TO-
mantle passages and crossed mysterious
bridges, to drive her home. She alighted
just within, or rather just without the range
of sight from Linden grove windows.
| How well they had become acquainted !!
how much, how very much, she liked HIM.
and how apprecialive and comprehensive
she felt was mis- liking for her. Everything
in their intercourse had been unconventional,
and now they had parted without Il word OF
future meeting. Sac had not even, as com
mon gratitude demanded, asked his name
Would they meet again!
Poets and artists from Homer 10 Turner
have recognized Il wonderful force in the
mystic emphasis of Repetition. And Fate
whose genius is at heart poetic and artistic,
has its own fOndness for Implications and
antlphonals In the meeting again of Flor
ence Grey and her guide there was az EN-
poymcnt Of this potent principle.
They met so precisely as they had met be.
fore that the repetition assumed in their eyes
a meaning, por,ent,
Details of coincidence forced themselves
upon obserya,ion-the glen OF forget. me.notS
al sunset u sunset tiecked with carmine
clouds; Florence in her shepherdess costume
of blue and white for the sojourners of Lin
l. ;,I,
fete J her guide reading the identical little
book; her hand holding the same wood
leaves. He had named them to her before
sumach, wild rose, woodbine.
The exact scene which had environed their
first actual meeting-here it was their eyes
had OWNED the sympathy they possessed Tor
each other-now evlr0ned their parting; for
he said
II leave N tomorrow. ! have taken
passage on Saturdays steamer from New
York to Liverpool
Florence Greys face betrayed sudden
emotion She had the satisfaction, however,
to tatter herself that in ordering calm
speech, she concealed the unaccOUnable
pang too sensibly experienced. Since you
are going away Miss Grey said, "please
tell me your name, that may have the nom
nal keepsake of one from whom have az
cepted kindness"
She hardly needed to ask, for her fancy,
cast in a truly femme mould, easily reached
conclusions without premises, and mad al
ready named and domlciled and endowed
this woodland hero. There was certain
immortal place near N, the residence OF
an eccentric and rccluse bachelor-just the
man to have one interesting nephew Tor an
occasional visitor and u sole heir. Florence,
on horseback, had dashed by this residence
almost daily since her last adventure, expect
ing to see her student thoughttully pacing
its silent terrace, or emerging upon her Drl-
dlepath from its stately gladeS.
How were her preconceptions put to flight
by his downright answer My name is
Horace King. am workman in the N
factories"
Florence Grey's quickly moved and ingen
ious face expressed, after one sweeping cloud
of regret, that unmistakable bar OF circum-
stantlal pride, pronouncing how far Horace
King was removed from her, how impossible
was the gulf between u workman III the car
pct factory Of N--and high.bred girl
trained in circle of fashion and fortune,
and anticipating in the approaching season
brilliant debut In New York.
As an immediate neutrality-suspicious. some.
thing IN the mingled pride ana pain with
which the youth said these words reached
her-something in his tone touched the bet
ter, treer nature of Florence Grey With a
quick impulse swayed by kindly retrospect
ton and kindly good wishes, she took from
her finger turquois ring.
ut is set with forgetmenot,' she said,
giving it TO him. "Keepit 1t, please AS token
of my thanks. Keep it until We meet again"
She glanced away from him as she con
cuded a sentence which, for some reason or
other, thrilled and inspired hm-she glanced,
ut her last words atar of towards the setting
sun. He interpreted her look. Their meet
ing again" was beyond the horizon of tan
gible events.
He kissed he's hand and accepted her kind
gilt.
BY curious legal complication, arising
from curious bat lawful will" Florence
GREY, upon the death of her mother, which
occurred IN the very autumn for which the
opening OF her brilliant season" had been
planned. was lett a penniless orphan. She
WAS Hunp in n moment from the caressing