The bee., 1877-09-06
Subscription Price. si.oo 4 Year.

Al lAss, one evening, when MilIys an. kle was nearly we'll, Amt Barbara was called away ar d she wss left alone with Dr. Vanderbourg. Of course she must be polite and entertain him, co she said sweetly:
 "Dr. vAnderbourg. won't you tell me what your wife Is likei'
 The doctor looked sssonished, and Mil ly blusbed and felt very foolish, but tho doctor was equal to the occasion. He rose from his chair and went toward her.
 "Mllly," he said "I have no wife, but l want one very bad. Will you come, dear 2" and he reached out his great arms.
 "Poor title Millyl "Ths great, biz, ugly, gander," she said to herself, then turned to him with flashing eyes:
 "I won't be made fun of hate you! Go away l and before either could speak, but not before she saw the pained, sorrowful look in the big blue eyes, Aunt Barb ap- peared, and all became serene. In few moments the doctor rose to gay good night. He went to Milly, and taking her hand before she could refuse Il. said, so low that even Aunt Barbi sharp ears could not hear: "i am very sorry, Milly, and hope some day you will change your mind It Is fate, dear, I suppose" Then aloud: ''Good-by Miss Milly, 1 hope before long yon will be able to climb all the trees on the fsrm,' and then in moment he was gone.
 The next morning Milly heard that Dr. Vanderbourg had left for New York Did she lau b then am sorry to say Milly cried--all to herself, though, in her cosy little differentiated room. After that life at the white farm house was the same as usual, until one after noon, sitting in the great kitchen, Milly was watching Aunt Barbar make pies-- not romantic employment, but the re. suit was always gOod--snd right in tho midst of ita letter was brought in, post. marked New York. Milly's heart gave jump, and woman. like, she was dying with curiosity m 6 moment.
 Aunt Barbara eyed the le ter, shrugged her shoulders, and laid it aside. Milly peeped.
 Could t be from Ds. Vanbourgl"
 Then her face burned, and she pinchsd herself under the table.
 "No, it is lady's writing evidently" Then she thought ofher Amt Laura-- her fashionable aunt who lived in New York.
 What does she wanti" she asked herself.
 By this time the pies were in the oven, and Aunt Barbara, after washing her hands and hunting for the scissors, cut open the letter and read It deliberately. Then she looked at Milly, and. smiling grimly. handed it to her. Milly deyour. l cd 1t. a..
 Dear sister," it ran, "Milly is now young lady grown, and think it is time she saw something of the world. Can you not lend her to mo for the coming Winter ! My daughters, ss you know, are all married, and an alone. Let her come the first of next month that will give her time to complete her Win. ter outfit before the season fairly opens. Do not refuse me" Then followed some family news that Milly did not stop to read, but, jumping up, threw her arms around Aunt Bsrba- ra's neck, and begged "Oh please let me go !" until the stern lips smiled and her aunt consented.
 Then for the next few weeks ahe was in dream. The "gsnder" disappeared from her thoughts, and every word she spoke was of the coming Winter.
 October at last flew past, and one bleak day in November, Milly, fresh and rosy, in natty little travelling suit, arrived in the crowded busting city of New York. A busy-looking gentleman met her st the depot. who after giving her cordial greeting, cid he was "Uncle Charles" and told her she must not lot her little head whih or her heart be stolen by tho giddiness of New York. Then hustlinR her into carriage be gave the word ''home" to the coschman and left her. Milly was in bliss, and only when she had been welcomed by her aunt and had reached inc dp1iriops little rco.,, .es;ocos