Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1876-08-09

vi MS eyes WAS up stdlTs COFTtcttnj
compositions" and he did not get
glimpse of her.
At noon the next day the mother o
laxen-haired Nettie, pet of the bab.
class, came with Nettie's luncheon, &C
companied by the indefatigable youn,
man, who was then formally presente,
to Miss Thatcher.
From that time they met daily on tn
wav to school and the way from school
walking slowly along the high-roa'
and the pretty woodpath that closed 1t
and giving each other gradually, will
all the trustful facility of youth ant
irresistible attraction, the confidentia
histories of their young iifetimes. A
evening he came to see her.
And, then, what happened? All a
once the dismal interior of the old hous,
where Louisa boarded became as rosily
TRANSPORTED as its exterior had been BY
the glory Of the western heavens the
hour of Miss Thatcher's arrival. In 8
more magical couleur de rose, the fu.
neral parlOr blushed into a bOudOir
the low-windowed bedroom blossomed
into beauty, not only with all the bud.
and branches brought into it as memen-
toes of darling walks and drives, bul
with the subtle efflOrescent unfolding
of love dreams.
One evening the young couple were
sitting in Mr.. Seaman's parlor by the
dim lamp, dignified by the mercenary
genius of Mrs. Seaman into can extra
looking together over the mill manu-.
script.
"l find it so dull" said Leonard
Mansfield. "Were it not for one con-
sideration and one conviction l should
never be able to finish. The considera-
ton is for your sake, because you like
it, Louisa; the conviction was the foun-
dation of my coming to claim the record.
When my uncle's will was read, seven
years ago, one clause struck my ina
gination.
''If any of my heirs feel sufficiently
interested in me to inquire into my
personal history they will find my diary
in the old mill where it was written, at
Red Cedar Pond, twelve miles from
u, i County, Conn. Per-
sonal application to be made to Deacon
Treat or Squire Wells The heirs
noted this direction with Indifference" !"
"My share of the legacies took me
college--as my father, one Of
the dearest and noblest of men, but
never fortunate in money-making, could
not afford it-and furnished me with a
small capital to commence law practice.
| had more than compunctious thought
about my benefactor. 1t seemed to me
a shame to accept such benefits from a
man in whom l had not even sufficient
interest to acquaint myself with his
personal history. This year, when !
became for the first time eEcouraginGly
established in my profession. l deter
mined to commence my vacation by
looking up the neglected diary. l con-
fess 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
lore him little?'"
81 found worlds in it." said Miss
Thatcher. signing so sorrowfully, as
she had not done since she had entered
her new world of love and loving.
"Worlds of what, my dearest?" asked
the light-hearted young lawyer. He
was clasping her hand In one of his as
ne spoke, and with the other he turned
the leaves of the time-stained
book that lay OH the table. A little bit
Of handwriting that he knew struck his
vision; it was the line on the margin,
mo one TO love, none to caress."
Miss Thatcher saw 1t too. "Yes, /
1now," she said softly. 1 wrote it
here. l could not help it. Twas the
tribute of my sympathy"
He turned to her very earnestly.
in the tremulous sensitive
ness of her face smote his heart pain
fully. Tears started to his eyes. He
folded bis strong arm around her with
1 sense of infinite tenderness.
"Let me tell you," she said, disen-
gaging herself from his embraces,
what a strange thing l found, or
thought l found, in that diary. First
Of all, you know, 1 was drawn singu.
arly into rapport with the writer by
ny own sad loneliness. felt the
iepth of meaning in his complaint.
Yes" she said, trembling, 81 must
confess, and l do repent, even in his
against heaven. Alone In !
he world. Sometimes that happens"
And here let it be explained to the
'eader that by an accident in the cradle
he writer of the diary had been made
repellant, and his sensitive
oul exaggerated his misfortune into a
,arrier between himself and the loving
of all mankind. As for
he knew not for his
mother died at his birth-even its ma
ernal tenderness. tl.fg--.
Leonard, DEAR" Miss Thatcher went
n, "you will think me, perhaps, the
most superstitious being; but think
nd the idea has gathered some reason
BILE pleas-I cannot help thinking that
his book is framed as a mode of bequest. |
believe the writer, your fathers bro
her, stung with the bitter thought that
lis hard-earned fortune would be spent
" those who never knew or cared for
lin, devised method by which part
t least should be the reward of affec-
ionate gratitude.
She explained to him then her theory
# the maps, and her instructive con-
of one particular map which |
he had studied at the very last reading |
u the old mill.
Leonard Mansfield's cheek flushed as
Ie listened. At the close he said, "Your
easoning is sufficiently plausible to /,
Ieserve to be tested, and SO it shall be.
a.