The Hickman courier., 1877-12-07
The Burnt Letter

/ II was gOsSlplnS nelghDOr VINO had
/ been spending an hour with Mrs. Webb,
| and Just before she went she had let fly
the arrow she had kept in her culver.
g Your son Grantley goes over the hill
to the Burdock's pretty often, Mrs.
Webb" said she.
q don't know it if he does" replied
the old lady.
Naturally he wouldn't tell you until
the last, after old Burdock's quarrel with
his dead father" said the neighbor-
but everybody else knows. It's said
to be a settled tn ng. Why, Keziah saw
him kiss her at the gate one Sunday
night, and even Ann Burdock would
hardly 60 so far as that unless it was 20,
eh
Well, good bye"
She hurried off, leaving her hostess
dumb and motionless at the door.
It was some moments before she even
thought of going in and casting herself
into her chair, but she did it at last, and
fell to talking to herself in this wise
Oh, it's worse than anything that
ever happeued 70 me. I've had trouble.
heaven knows, but it was the kind had
to bear if God sent it, but this doesn't
seem right My Grantley to marry
Steven Burdock's daughter, the child OF
the very worst enemy his father ever had,
a girl brought up by a woman despise
Sarah Burdock never had the ways /
liked, nor did the things | thought right
for a woman to do. Everything is so
different with the Burdocks, so strange.
Like ought to marry like, or there'n
never be a happy home. But that's the
way with men pretty face strikes them
and away they go, and Grantley is like
the rest. Why should he choose Sarah
Burdock's daughter ?"
She rocked TO and fro "a she spoke,
letting her neglected knitting drop into
her lap.
There's Fanny White" she muir
mered, nice, thrifty girl ; and Minnie
Holm. Why, her mother is the best
friend have. There are plenty of girls
I could have made up my mind to
though I dent know why Grantley
should marry any one yet. But Ann
Burdeck, with her showy ways, and her
airs and graces, | never can welcome her,
never, never. ! must go away and live
by myself if she comes here to lord it
over the house; and her mother, no
doubt, will come and sit and talk in her
foolish, fighty way and the sisters will
sit in the parlor windows, and take up
the table. They'll be here half the time.
and make nobody of me. know them.
Oh! if my Grantley does marry Ann
Burdock. But it can't be It can't ~
just then a foot struck the floor of the
porch, the window raised little, and
through fAe aperture came flying two
letters. One a yellow, vulgar-looking
missive, the other little white envelope
with monogram upon it.
The old lady looked up.
The postman, who had thus easily de-
livercd his letters, looked over his
shoulder, and laughed and nodded at
her as he hurried away with his leather
bag upon his arm, and she put on her
spectacles to read the superscriptions.
The yellow envelope held only one of
those circulars with which tradesmen of
all sorts are in the habit of feeding the
country. SThe white one was not ad-
dressed TO her, but to her son. and the
monogram was a very pretty silver and
blue A. B.
Ann Burdock," said the old lady
"It's a note from her. Now, wonder
what she has written to my boy? I'd
like to know. It's very easy opening
these envelopes. 'Tisn't as if they were
sealed and what harm would it be for
mother to read a letter TO her son
Pve half mind to do it. Only he'd be
angry, maybe. Well, then, Pm angry
too, and with more reason. Yes-I
will"
A little old-fashioned copper kettle
simmered and bubbled upon the stove.
A little spirit of steam arose from its
spout,
The old lady looked at it. Then,
rising, she crept across the floor in a
guilty sort of fashion, and held the
envelope with its flaps downward, close
TO the mouth of the spout
She held it for few moments, and
then softly touched it with her thumb
and finger.
It was quite damp, and one fold peeled
away from the other very easily, and
there lay the little note in her hand.
She might have read it if she chose !;
If there were secrets in it, Miss Ann
Burdock should have secured them
better than she could with the little