The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1876-07-13
The manuscripts bin called fur"
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it gone ?" she asked, family.
No, miss, not gone said Tim, radi-
antly, we'll satisfied with ''the START he
had given her; mot tux away when you
wus a readin' ont. Catch me SAYS l.,
'Sir, you must bring a written order So
he went up the hill to the old deacon s.
that wus yesterday. He'll be here fur GER
tain to-day But you've got the manscrip,
miss, to look at once agin, anyhow. Catch
me a-givin' ont up till had ter"
lin, you are a very good, kind tel-
low" said Miss Thatcher
She took the manuscript, and it was
then that, before she had read a word
she wrote in fine pencil mark upon the
margin of one of the sallow pages-a
page she turned over leaf after leaf es-
pecially to find
| No one to love, none to caress.'
Hardly had she written this when the
sound of a crutch was heard on the mill
bridge, and voices. and in another mo
ment the sunny doorway Of the mill was
darkened by two figures
There was no escape for Louisa She
arose from her love Of a corner. with the
manuscript in her hands
II am sure you have come for this, :"
she said to the old deacon Then she
| glanced at his companion.
He could certainly bear no relation to
''the curESest spesmln Of Il human cretur"
described by lin as the author Of the
diary. She caught the impression, in her
rapid glance, OF a scholarly looking young
man, with y pale forehead ami a dark
mustache, who wore eyeglasses,
II believe am the owner OF the record
left here so many years ago" the young
man explained but | have no reason
to carry it away at this moment. | shall
be in the village over the Sabbath, per-
haps through the week. If you have not
finished reading it, | shall leave the book
with you gladly"
"Oh no." said Miss Thatcher quickly
| too quickly she alterward thought; but
embarrassment or perhaps fate, urged
her to decline the strangers politeness
She was going, and as she went an un-
controllable impulse caused her to turn
back, and say. IF you are kindred to the
man who wrote the book, twill make you
very sad. hope-I hope you will feel 4
little love for him"
At church on Sunday the claimant Of
the Bowles's Mill manuscript appeared
in a conspicuous pew, and Louisa Thatch-
er felt even when he was not looking at
her, that his thoughts were studying her
through and through.
On Monday morning, as she trldged
along the high-road to the school-house,
she met him, and he evidently expected
a recognition; but intent upon the neces-
sty Of absolute dignity in "a district
school-ma am she vouchsafed him none.
"She blushcd, though, the young man
reflected, consolingly. That evening he
called at Mr.. Seaman's with one OF the
village dignitaries, but the desire of his
eyes was up stairs correcting compost
tions," aud he did not gain Il glimpse of
| her.
At noon the next day the mother of
tiaXen-hared Nettie, pet of the baby class,
came with Nettie's luncheon, accompanied
by the indetali gable young man, who was
then formally presented to Miss Thatcher.
| From that time they met daily on the
way to school and the Way from school.
walking slowly along the high-ro;td and
! the pretty wood path that closed it. and
| giving each other gradually, with all the
trusttul facility of youth and irresistible
attraction the confidential histories Of their
| Young litetlmes. At evening he came to
| see her.
| And then, what happened All ut once
the dismal interior Of the old house where
| Louisa boarded became as rOsly transhg
| ured rs its exterior had been by the glory
| OF the western heavens the hour of Miss
| Ihatcher'S arrival. In 4 more magical
couleur de rose, the funeral parlor blusheu
into a boudor; the low -windoWcd bed
room blossomed into beauty not only with
all the buds and branches brought into it
rs mementos of darling walks and drives,
but with the subtle elllorescent unfolding
of love dreams.
one evening the young couple We're sit
ting in Mi. Seaman's parlor by the dim
lamp, dignitied by the mercenary genius
of Mrs. Seaman into 'an extra" looking
together over the mill manuscript
Il find it so dull,' said Leonard Mans
field "Wcrc it not for one consideration
and one conviction, | should never be able
to finish. The consideration is for your
sake because you like it. Louisa the con-
viction was the foundation Of my coming
to claim the record. When my uncle's
will was read seven years ago, one clause
| struck my imagination
.'lf any OF my heirs feel sufficiently in
terested in me to inquire into my person
! al ilotbl liltS w III Ili'i Viil lil liC
| old mill where it was written, at Red
Cedar Pond twelve miles from l.,
j County, Connecticut. Personal APP
plication to be made to Deacon Treat or
| Squire Wells The heirs noted this diree-
ton with Indifference.
"Aly share of the legacies took me
through college--as my father, one Of the
dearest and noblest Of men, but never for
I h, off ,,j
and furnished me with Il small capital
to commence law practice. | had more
than one compunctious thought about my
benefactor. 1t seemed to me a shame to
accept such benefits from Il man in whom
| had not even sufficient interest to ac
quaint myself with his personal history,
This year. when | became for the first
time encouragingly established in my pro-
tession, deter mined to commence my va
cation by looking up the neglected diary.
confess | do not find myself inspired by
its revelation What did you find, dear
Louisa, to kindle you into the request that
has haunted me, Il hope you will tore him
a little p
II found worlds in it, said Miss Thatch-
er, signing 50 sorrowtully. as she had not
done since she had entered her new world
Of love and loving.
"Worlds Of achat, my dearest?" asked
the light hearted young lawyer. He was
clasping her hand in one ofhis as he spoke
and with the other he turned absently the
leaves of the time stained book that lay
on the table. A little bit OF hand writing
that he knew struck his vision it was the
line on the margin,
''No one to love, none to caress.'
MissThatcher saw it too "Yes, | know" :"
she said softly. IL wrote it there. | could
not help it.. Twas the tribute Of my SYM
pathy.'
He turned to her very earnestly Some
thing in the tremulous sensitiveness of her
face smote his heart painfully. Tears
started to his eyes. He folded his strong
arm around her with sense of infinite
tenderness.
LET me tell you," she said, disengag
ing herself from his embraces. "what a
strange thing | found or thought found.
in that diary First of all vOu know