Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1876-03-08

| FA Popa, anu Oh now muc0 he hal
spoken Of me, and Of the lovely voyage,
and the green graves left behind: and
who hal gone to meet q child and
found woman, looking at her and
ieeifng toward her - had never looked
upon nor felt to any other.
/ Noe % Elsie ball. Il. Has not III
ooybh love dream come again.
Anaiyzing the emotion, found ouly
great longing to rotect and comfort
her-to guard her from every pain and
III; and said TO myself: 's'rhis 10 ss .
father must feel to daughter; lean be
parent to George Hunters child In
every truth" Aud took her home %
the old house and n my old mother. I
thought only of those; somehow. I
never thought of Ashton.
Shall | ever forget how she bright
ened the sombre rooms! How, Is her
sadness wore away, she sang to us In
the twilight! How strangely a some
thing which made the return home, and
the long hours Of the evening seem 50
much brighter than they had ever been
before, sIOle into my life I never went
to sleep in church now; I kept awake to
look at Olive Hunter-to listen to her
pure contrsltO rs she Joined in the sing
ing Sometimes caught her eve, her
great unfathoinable brown eye, for she
had habit OF looking at me. Was she
wondering how face could be 90 stern
and grimm | used to ask myself.
Ashton used to look at her also. He
had been away when she first came to
US, and when he returned she was q
grand surprise to him.
'Oh, how lovely she is :" he had said
| to me.
"She is very pretty" replied.
Ashton laughed.
"May | never be an old bachelor IL 1t
brings me TO calling such a girl very
pretty" he said; aud / felt conscious
that my cheek flushed, and felt angry
that he should have spoken of me thus,
though l never cared before.
They liked each other very much
those two young things. They were
together great deal. A pretty picture
they made in the Venetian window In
the sunset. He a fair-head d, blue
eyed, Saxon-looking youth: she so ex-
quisitely dark and glowing.
Every one liked her. Even my old
clerk, Stephen Hadley, used TO say her
presence lit the office more than dozen
a
speech of which old Stephen was ever
known to be guilty; and | never knew
how much she WAS to me until one even
ing, when, coming home earlier than
usual. l saw in that Venetian window
where Ashton and Olive had made so
many pleasant pictures for me, one that
| never forgot|hat never shall forget
as long as 1--we.
She stood with her back to me. Ash
ton WAS kneeling at her feet. The sound
of the opening door dissolved the pic
ture; but had seen it, and stole away
TO hide the stab that it had given me.
sat down i'm my own room and hid
my face i'm my hands, and would have
been glad to hide it beneath my coffin-
lid. l knew now that | loved Oliy6
Hunter; that loved her not rs an old
man might love child, but AS a young
man might love the woman who ought
to he his wife-beiter than l had loved
Elsie Hall; for il WAS not boyish pas.
sion, but earnest, heartfelt love.
in love! I arose and looked in the
mirror, and my brOad-sloulOered refiec
,svu- -0tu-rrcu ucrurc my Eaxc. inc
springtime of my life had flown, and
my summer had come and gone, aud in
the autumn had dreamt Of loves bud
and blossom.
knelt beside my bed and prayed that
1 might not hate my brother-that
might not even envy him. His touch
upon my door startled me. He came in
with something in his manner not usual
to him, and sat down opposite me. For
a few moments we were silent. Then
he said, speaking rapidly and blushing
like girl: "Ned, old fellow, you
you saw me making fool Of myself
just now, l suppOse?"
Il saw you on your knees" said.
"And thought me 4 silly fellow, eh :
But you don't know, Ned. You can't
understand-you've been so calm and
cool all your life through, You know.
She's driving me mad. Ned, l do be-
lirve she likes me, but she won't say
yes. I'd give my right hand for her
love. l mast have il, and | think yos
can help me, Ned. From something
she said, believe she thinks you would
disapprove; perhaps you are one of
those old fellows who want every one
to marry for money. Tell her you're
not. Ned-dear old fellow-teIl her
you have no objection. and I'll never
forget it-indeed. 1 won't"'
L
peated, mechanically.
"You know you are master here, and
as much my father as il you really were
one instead of brother" said Ashton.
"If did not know how kindly you had
always felt to us both, shouldn't con-
tide in you, for it's 4 serious thing to be
in love, Ned, and you may thank
Heav. you know nothing about it."
Know nothing about it. All, II he
could have read my heat just then:
"I'll do what can, Ashton" l said
at last. "I'll try my best"
And he fung his arm about me In his
own boyish fashion, and left me alone
alone with my own thoughts.
He had said truly; l had been like q
father to him. was old enough to be
hers, ard 10 one should know my silly
dream. | would hide 1t while 1 lived.
As had said once: "I've only the old
folks and the children now" l said
then; 81 will only think of mother and
of Ashton. Let my own life be rs moth |
ing; | have lived for them-if needs be,
| will die for Them"
But l would not see or speak to Olive |
that night, nor until the next ,iay was
quite done. Then, in the twilight, l sat
beside her and took her hand.
"Olive," said, Il think you know |
that Ashton loves you. i am sure he |
has told you so. And you-csn you not
love him?"
She drew her hand from mine, and
said not one word.
81 should rejoice in my brothers
happiness. should think him happier
in having your love than anything else
..ould m ale him I told him l would |
tell you so."
And then she spoke.
You wish Inc to marry Ashton 2"
Reproach was in the tone-reproach
and SORROW"
"lf you can love him, Olive" 1 said.
She arose. She seemed to shrink
from me. though in the dark could not
see her face.
IL do not love him." she said.
And we were still as death Then
suddenly Olive Hunter began to sob.