The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1877-09-27
AFTER DIRK.

loved her so much, that Mrs. Dalrymple
was a representation of charming old
age, that might have made poets cele-
brate it instead of youth. Her brown
eyes were still as soft and large, if not as
bright, as ever; and, although the rings
of hair round her smooth brow were
silvery white, her brows and lashes were
yet dark. But it was none of that, nor
the soft skin with the delicate rosy
bloom that sometimes diffused it, that
made the charm of the face; it was the
soulful expression there, and the smile
sweeter than any young girl knows how
to smile-a smile full of innocence and
love. Her life had not been a very
happy one, we used to fancy, she having
had some serious cross in her youth, and
afterward marrying a man whom she did
not very tenderly love, because he loved
her, and who ended by abusing her.
She had been now for several years a
widow without children, spending her
considerable fortune in kindnesses, and
making all the young people in the re-
gion her stanch adherents.
She lived at the Cedars, and some one
or the other of us was always with her,
and it would be hard to say where a
pieasanter life could be lived than all
day long in Mrs. Dalrymple's gardens or
behind her horses, and all the evenings,
with the breath of roses and honey
suckles about the windows, in her de-
hghtful drawing rooms, listening to her
old co1ates, or to the talk of by-gone days
in which her contemporaries indulged
when they became her guests.
Among these guests occasionally was
Mr.. Stephen. an elderly person who
had come into the neighborhood some
years before. and who lived on the next
place, where only hedge divided the
lands-a strange, sad, silent old man,
concerning whom, as nobody knew any
thing, everybody coniecture6 everything.
Some said he was an Englishman, some
that he was a New Zealander it was
generally conceded that he had suffered
great calamity and here and there even
it was declared that in distant State he
had been imprisoned under a life SEN
tence, but pardoned out for quiet be-
havior after fifty years, taking then the
property which it was in his power to
take, and coming here. Peaceful and
gentle as he was, living among his birds
and flowers, giving freely to whomsoever
asked, he was yet generally avoided, and,
as he sought no one, his life was soil
tary. He had had occasion to look for
lost pet on Mrs. Dalrymple's grounds,
which had led to an acquaintance that
he so little followed up that sometimes
she herself would take one of us and go
over into his garden, and often she
would tap on the long window, and say
ing, gayly, privilege of an old
woman l'' insist on bringing him home
to dinner.
She had done SO to-day; for we had
surprised her-we homeless girls whom
she had at last made permanently at
home with herself-in an unwonted
shower of tears in the morning, tears
that continued with more or less force
all day. - must have something now
to brighten me-" said she. ''Let us go
and get Mr.. Stephen. We viii have an
onaeletie Touna. There was omelette
rouna OIL the table fifty-three years ago
to- day, I remember now. 1t is one OF
my anniversary days to-day, my dears. .
Hinc iucs tacrina9," said we, wip-
ing the dear lady's face and trying to
make her smile. Somehow we always
felt as if she were our own age.
s' Yes, it is one of my anniversary days
to-day" said she again, after dinner, as
we all sat in the drawing-room about
her, Mr.. Stephen not far away in his
armchair. 1T is so long ago that il
often seems to have been something
once read of rather than once lived and
felt and suffered-oh, yes, suffered /
fancy that bright young happy girl with
of it all without suffering now; yet, Just
for the pity of it, just as as you cry ovel
novel, you know, 1 could not helE
shedding a few tears to-day"
"Was it so very sad, then % one of us
ventured.
"Ahi very. And we were all sc
yo,ngl I viii tell you about it; al
ways said I would. Idonot Mid speak