Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1876-08-02

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
especially to find
s'No one to love, none to caress."
Hardly had she written this when
the sound of q crutch was heard on
the mill bridge, and voices, and in an
other moment the sunny doorway Of
! the mill was darkened by two figures
There was no escape for Louisa. She
arose from her love of q corner, with
the manuscript in her hands.
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 curusest spesmin of human
cretur" described by Tim as the author
of the diary. She caught the impress
sion, in her rapid glance, Of scholarly
looking young man, with pale fore
head and dark mustache, who wore
eyeglasses.
81 believe I am the owner of the
record left here SO many years ago, y
the young man explained. "But l
have no reason to carry it away at this
moment I shall be in the village over
the Sabbath, perhaps through the week.
If you have not finished reading it, |
shall leave the book with you gladly"
"Oh no." said Miss Thatcher, quick
ly-too quickly she afterward thought;
but embarrassme nt, or perhaps fate,
urged her to decline the strangers po-
likeness.
She was going, and as she went an
uncomfortable impulse caused her to
turn back, and say, IF you are kim
dred to the man who wrote the book,
twill make you very sad. I hope-I
hope you will feel a little love for him"
At church on Sunday the claimant
of the Bowles' Mill manuscript appear
ed in a conspicuous pew, and Louisa
Thatcher felt, even when he was not
looking at her, that his thoughts were
studying her through and through.
On Monday morning, as she trudged
along the high-road to the school
house, she met him, and he evidently
expected recognition; but intent upon
the necessity of absolute dignity in a
district school-ma'am," she vouch-
safed him none.
"She blushed, though" the youns
man reflected, consolingly. That even
ing ne called at Mr.. Seamen's with one
of the village dignitaries, but the de-
ing compositions" and he did not gain
a glimpse of her.
At noon the next day, the mother of
faxen-haired Nettie, pet of the baby
class, came with Nettie's luncheon, &C
companied by the indefatgable 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 highroad and
the pretty woodpath that closed it, and
giving each other gradually, with all
the trustful facility of youth and ire
slst BILE attraction, the confidential his
tories of their young lifetimes. AT
evening he came to see her.
And then what happened? All at
} once the dismal interior of the old
: house where Louisa boarded became as
rosily TRANSPORTED as it's exterior had
, been by the glory of the western heav.
, ems the hour of Miss Thatcher's arrival
In more magical couleur de rose, the
funereal parlor blushed into a boudoir
? the low-windowed bedroom blossomed
into beauty, not only with all the buds
and branches brought into it as mo-
| mentoes of darling walks and drives
but with the subtle efflorescent unfold
7 ing of love dreams. Sod 5ses
!, One evening the young couple were
sitting In Mr.. Seaman's parlor by the
t dim lamp, dignifed by the mercenary
, genius OF Mrs. Seaman into "an extra,
7 looking together over the mill manu-
!. script.
!, 81 find it so dull" said Leonard Mans
r held. Were it not for one considera
tlon and one conviction should never
l be able to finish. The consideration is
: for your sake, because you like it, Lou
, lsa; the conviction was the foundation
OF my coming to claim the record
t When my uncle's will was read. sever
l years ago, one clause struck my imagi
; nation: sd
IT any of my heirs feel sufficiently inter
: estsd in me to inquire into my personal his
: tory, they will find my diary in the old mil
where it was written. at Red Cedar, Pond
twelve miles from u, j county
Conn. Personal application to be made tc
Deacon Treat or Squire Wells.'"
The heirs noted this direction with
Indifference.
My share Of the legacies took me
through college-as my father, one OF
the dearest and noblest of men, but
} never fortunate in money-making
could not afford and furnished me
! with small capital to- commence Law
practice. [ had more than compunc.
tious thought about my benefactor. II
seemed to me shame to accept such
, benefits from man in whom I had
not even sufficient interest to acuuaint
myself with his personal history. This
year, when became for the first time
encouragingly established in my pro-
, fesslon, determined to commence my
vacation by looking up the negotiated
diary. | confess do not find myself
inspired by it's revelation. What did