The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1877-12-07

upon The hack OF the piazzn.
There Is some one at The door,
PIERRE" I said to him as ! sat at the
window with a book which was not
reading.
at is the washwoman. She is n
very nice laundress, Monsieur"
"Yes." sand, indiherently. "psy
her."
He received the curiously covered
basket, settled the bill and the woman
departed.
Pierre prepared to arrange my lin.
en- by opening a bureau drawer. I
turned page Of my book as he with
drew the white cloth from the basket,
when my attention was again arrested
by his EXPLANATIONS
Mon DieM Lsces, ruflles."
"What is the matter, Pierre ?"
These are ladies' things. Here is
wrapper with Auted ruffles, white
skirts, and-ha, hal--embroidered
stockings. Mees Betsy, Mees Betsy.
come hack"
He dropped the basket on the floor
and rushed after the old woman. I
glanced within and saw a mass of
snowy lace and embroideries, beauti.
full as bed of lilies. The clothing
was too dainty and expensive to he
long to any but lady, and ] wonder.
ed idly who the owner might he. In
one corner was pile ofhosiery. The
stockings were not all white--one
pair was If cream color, with a silk
embroidery of buds and vines; and
while | was carelessly considering how
and where such exquisite needlework
was done, the thought flashed across
me that had seen that very pattern
of silken ro,ebuds on Stephenie st.
Jeans foot
My hand trembled. | dropped my
book as Pierre came rushing back
with the painting old woman.
"Yes, / have left the wrong basket.
The other, outside, is yours, sir. Hope
you'll excuse me. I'm getting old
and forgetful."
"Stay!" | said, breathlessly." Whom
are the lady's things for?"
"For the Young lady down stairs
who came last week, sir-Miss st.
Jean. III take them away directly"
Unheeding the wondering eyes of
the two, | snatched up handkerchief
on which | saw name marked. Yes,
it was "Stephenie!"
| grew faint and turned away to
hide my emotion. My hand shook as
| snatched up my hat and rushed out
OF doors.
The sun was setting across the wa
ter. The waves danced blood-red in
its light. The air had grown cool and
a pair of singing shore birds flew be-
fore me as sought favorite seat of
mine, retired among the rocks.
had not composed my mind, when
there was a rustic Of silk, and soft
hand was laid on my arm.
Forrest"
"Stepheniel"
"You know | AN here, now, and
| have come to speak to you
She sat down close beside me, ia.
cling me, her arm across my knee, her
clear eyes steadily meeting mine; and,
before she spoke word. took that
fair hand tenderly, feeling that she
was to be restored to me.
Forrest. have been here a week,
wishing to see you, yet repealed by
your determined seclusion. If the
old woman called Aunt Betsey, who
frequents this place, had not told me
tonight that accident had revealed
my presence to you. should have lost
my last remnant of courage, and re-
turned home without speaking to you"
"What have you to say to me now,
you overheard Inc talking, as you
to Capt. Langdale, Forrest.
| was reading letter"
"a letter."
al have II startling story to tell.
Listen. All the spring my cousin
Lily's malady had seemed strange to
me. could not understand her loss
II strength and color. until learned
~ occupying the next apartment to
ler at Branchville, that she spent her
nights in weeping. While ! wonder
d that she should have secret trou.
BE from me, aud perplexe'i myself
now TO gain her confidence, | entered
ler room one morning, and found it
q be full of a strange sickening scent,
while Lily lay sen.cle's upon the bed.
She had taken an opiate powerful
nough TO produce death, and upnn
he table lay tvs" letters. One was
d,lre' scl tn me, the other To Captain
As snon ~ had procured assist
nee, aud physicians help had saved
er life, | read the letter the poor
Hill laI a1,l,s..al In mo punr