Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-11-16
ICoutinued from FIRST page. j

1t must have been Fred. brother Fred,
who said that. Such an idea would not
have entered the head Of one of the girls.
or if il had, they would have had too
much sense to utter Il. Bat. of course.
Fred had blurted il out in his hap-hazard
way. and the idea had entered poor little
Bessle's mind and stuck there and rank
led. And then when Ralph, whom she
had confidently expected that evening,
did not come, and when the next day had
nearly passed without bringing him, why
of course, Fred's foolish words came
back to her.
And then-Bessie could not tell now
why she did it, could not realize the storm
of excitement and passion in which she
had decided that Ralph was false and
cruel. like the rest of the world-she de-
termined that he should not be the first
To break the bonds which had become
irksome TO him. nor should he be bound
against his will So she had steibbled
Few cold, bitter words, and sent them of
upon the spur OF the moment. Had she
repented since? Why, what had she
done but repent, even when his reply
came, as cold and rs bitter as her note.
accepting his freedom, and congratulate
ing her on her timely release? They had
hurt her bitterly, those curt, cruel senten-
ces, for away down at the bottom OF her
heart, under all the excitement and anger
and suspicion, there had been warm
little nest OF faith and love. She had not
believed-not really believed-that Ralph
would take her at her word but he had
done it, and rfr-
bessie Bessie, child" calls Aunt
Rhodanthe, will your packing never be
done? Don't stop to dream over it,.
Dreams never did any good yet. Take
the world as it is, child. and you will soon
find that there is no room In it for dreams. y
s.-- The sun is just setting as Bessie and
Aunt Rhodanthe drive up to the low ram
bling house, with its cream-white walls
thickly mantled with vines. The sky is
all one flush of purest rose, and the dis
tant hill stands out hard and black against
the glow. Down from their tops sweeps
the fresh mountain wind, and Bessie's
eyes grow brighter already as she inhales
it. ...- .
How lovely it is here, Aunt Rhodan-
the p the girl says, as she looks around
her. "And you have lived here all your
life P'
"All my life,n replies Aunt Rhodanthe );
"and that is long time Miss Bessie. The
rocks and the hills are the same that they
were when was as young and bright as
you; but the rest"
And Aunt Rhodanthe stands still for a
moment, and gazes over the wide, fair
landscape stepped in the tremulous golden
light, and q shade of what is almost sad
ness steals over her hard features. while
Bessie watches her wonderingly and then
she turns again to Bessie.
.'See, Bessie" she says, pointing away
TO where thin thread of smoke eurls up
through the trees. ut is there that DR..
White lives. He was an old friend Of
Ralph Dormer's father. He, too, you
know, was DIR. Ralph Dormer; and it was
there that | met him first. A bad stock,
Bessie--a bad stock; and Ralph Dormer
is his father over again"
ibid you know him. Aunt Rhodanthe 2n
Bessie asks, wonderingly.
"Know him ~ says Aunt Rhodanlhe,"
as she turns away. "For six months
Ralph Dormer and met every day. The
road between the houses was well tray
elled then. And for forty years have
not seen his face nor heard his name, un-
til heard it in your house. The path
through the woods between the house was
grown up long ago, but the path between
our hearts was grown up before that"
Aunt Rhodanthe says no more, and
Bessie follows her silently into the house.
.a At breakfast the next morning Aunt
Rhodanthe begins her threatened course
of iron and quinine.
az CONTINUED ro-MoRRow1.