Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1876-11-08
One WOman'S Heart.

One WOman's Heart.
She was crocheting something out OF
soft scarlet and white wool. Her fin
gers were white as the wool. Milton
Etheredge sat watching her, pretend
ing to read the journal at the same
time. She was looking very charming
in her buff muslin dress, with pink rib
bons at the throat, and looped back the
brown hair.
Prate as we may of the unimportanee
of dress, it more or less influences the
destiny of us all. Venus herself would
be ugly in tattered gown, and only
imagine Apollo in swallow-tailed coat
with brass buttons, Annie Huntley
knew the value of dress-and, what is
more, she knew how to attire herself in
just the manner most becoming to her.
She was not so much prettier than doz-
ems of other young ladies, but every
thing about her was in harmony, and
people had fallen into the habit of call
ing her beautiful. She had a clear,
wild rose complexion, tolerably regular
features, soft, brown eyes, and brown
hair that was struggling continually to
break into the curls and ringlets so nat
ural 10 it.
Milton Etheredge-grave, silent, wise
lawyer-wondered within himself how
long he had loved this little Annie. He
could not remember. Six years ago she
had come to them--the dying bequest of
Mrs. EUheredge's best valued friend.
This great lady had been a mother to
her ever since, and Milton had played
the part of kind, elder brother. An
nie was eighteen when she came to
Graymead-she was now twenty-five.
Yes, he was sure he had loved her six
years. She had made everything so
different. Her pretty ways of arrang-
ing curtains, and flowers, and books,
and knick-knacks, had Frightened up
the stately old house wonderfully. Mil
ton thought it was strange how he and
his lady mother had ever managed to
live without her.
So he sat and looked at her as she
made the shining steel flash in and out
the bright fieecy wool. Not that he
thought of ever being anything more to
her than ne was now. His love was
quiet yet-it had not reached that pas
sionate stage when it will not be sub
dued by any obstacles. He was old
thirty at least-and it would be childish
for him to hope she would ever link her
young, fresh life with that Of a man
whose hair was already getting gray on
the temples.
But there was something more to de-
stroy the hope, if he had dared indulge
in it. At one time, perhaps, he had in
lulged in it, but certainly not now.
Annie Huntley had her life romance as
well as other women. IL had been
sweet at first-painfully bitter at the
asst. Ii made her smile graver -herl
color more fieeting-her manner, at
times, subdued and sad-so Etheredge
thought.
a
under somewhat romantic circumstan-
.es. He had saved her from drowning
III Cape May, when she had ventured
beyond her depth; and, after her re-
moyal to Graymead, he had followed
her there and located himself in the
practic of his profession-thel law. He
had been a constant visitor for two
years. People began TO speak of them
US belonging to each other, and Mrs.
Etheredge had, with wOman's pecu-
liar delight, begun to anticipate the
wedding supper and the bridal trous-
sedu. Etheredge had looked on with
dull pain in his heart, for which he felt
half angry with himself. Surely he
ought to rejoice that Annie would be so
happy, for Leigh Richardson was every
way estimable, and was rising rapidly
in his profession.
Suddenly, however, about two years
before the opening of our story, his VI
sits to Annie ceased, and he began a yio
lent Irritation with Nellie SeymOre, the
belle of the village. Annie did not die
on account of it-she did not even NOPE,
AS girls generally do when crossed in
love. She put aside the sympathy Mrs.
Etheredge would have offered her,
quickly, and gave her confidence to no
one. Sometimes she met Richardson,
but they exchanged no words, not even
the ordinary ceremonious greeting OF
mere acquaintance they were as COM
pletely separated as if an ocean rolled
between them.
This night, as Etheredge sat watch
ing Annie, and thinking of all this, he
noticed with a thrill of pain that she
was little paler, a little more quiet
than usual. He remembered that she
had met Richardson at the picture gal
lery that day.
Some magnetic influence in the gaze
Of Etheredge msde Annie look up.
She blushed under the serene lustre OF
those dark gray eyes, and her fingers
forgot their cunning, and dropped the
ball OF zephyr she was uuwinding. liz
rolled toward the fret was genuine,
old-fashioned wood fire upon the hearth
and, in STOPPING to recover II, her