The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1877-06-30
THE BX-BACHELOR'S STORY.

hour | hated her,
Well, time wore away and brought me
balm. | became an intimate visitor at
his house, and soon came to regard Wal
lace and his wife as one. They furnished
me beautiful room and [ went and
came as listed. Bye-and-byea daughter
was born to them. They called her
Alice because it was my favorite name
Little Alice Haughton! She was a
fragile, fairy thing, but exceedingly
lovely. 1t was grief to us-yes, at last
even to me, that Mary Haughton droop-
ed from the date of the birth of Alice.
Some hidden disease, whose germs had
never showed themselves above the sur
face before, fastened upon her vitals. So
slowly she faded that Wallace would not
believe her i'll till one day when Alice was
three years old.
One week from that time, the hearse
stood at his door. From the moment
Mary died, | did not see my friend she'd
tear. His face was rigid, colorless-
awful in its calm.
His little daughter was taken to his
mothers home, and after while Wal
lace broke up housekeeping and went
there too. Once more he was all mine
Day after day | sat with him, read to
him, nor could | believe that brilliant
compiexion-that fierce rapidity of
movement, of utterance, presaged fatal
disease. But SO it proved At she end
of five sad, yet happy years, myFdearest
friend died, leaving me the guardian of
his little daughter
Alice was more lovely than her child
hood had promised. Not strictly beau
tiful, but charming, fascinating. She
loved me very much, and when in wear
from her fathers death she left me for
school, she wept on my neck, refusing to
be comforted.
Eight years from the very day that
Alice Haughton left me for school, [ re-
ceiyed letter from her edged with
black 1t was not the first letter my
ward had sent, by any means-but the
first missive that bore tidings of death.
1t was addressed to me as her fathers
dearest friend. Her grandmother, she
said, had recently died; her two aunts
had gene to the far west; she was about
leaving school; where should she go? [
was her guardian and had a legal right
to advise with her. She longed to see
some familiar face, etc, ETC. The letter
did not give me any pleasure. knew
what my duty was, for on his dying-bed
Walter had confded his daughter to my
care
| looked around my comfortable rooms.
| did not want to have my quiet broken
up.
No, | said, resolutely; l will find her
good boarding place SO I wrote let
ter, sealed it, but did not send it. 81 do
SO long to see a familiar face that will
remind me of my dear home-my dear
father and mother in heaven"
There is no use in being such say
age" | said mentally, and then | tossed
the letter into the fire Git was in Jan
uary), and sent for Aunt NIFTY. She
was spare person, with not the most
pleasant face in the world-but the face
Is not always an index of the heart.
think some of having a young lady
here, Aunt Nifty" 1 said
" Lor. are you going to get married? !"
and her knitting needles fell as if par
alyzed
ooh, no. not the least intention; YOU
need never ask that question. l shall be
bachelor all my days, and you shall
keep house for me, Aunt NIFTY. But
you know | have spoken sometimes of
my little ward, Miss Alice Haughton;
she has done going to school, and as she
has neither father nor mother, | must
have her here, suppose"
was called out of town on important
business on the day of the expected ar
rival, and did not return till late in the
evening. l was cold, cherries and
weary, and had almost forgotten that /
was to meet anybody, when as | was
taking off my cloak in the hall, | heard
light footstep, and looking round | be-
held vision for which | was but little
prepared. Dressed in black garments. a
PERCUSSION OF dark hair falling in cluster
ing curls from her temples, there stood
Alice; her dark eyes, so like her fathers,
beaming, glowing with warm welcome.
her white hands outstretched to greet me.
why, Aice!" | exclaimed, forgetting
cold fatigue, can this be YOU, SO tall!
SO beautiful"
She blushed rosy red, smiled, returned
my salutation, and led The way into the
tea-room. Surely some magic had trans
formed it. l had always thought it
cheerful, but now with that sweet pres
ence, from which some charm surely
emanated, it seemed dazzling Perhaps
my fairy had let on a trife more of the
gas; perhaps she had caused the fire to
be replenished-I could not tell-but it
appeared to me new and refreshing
place. | forgot all my trials; my heart
grew light in a moment [ could not
keep my eyes from the sparkling face of
my ward. There is no use in trying to
describe her inimitable grace, her vary
ing expression every moment disclosing
some new charm-her delicacy of deport-