Connecticut western news., 1877-03-23
The Love Letter.

They had been boarding together at the farm, Jane Heth and Annie Con- yers; and all that autumn MT. Craig had been fishing and shooting in the vicinity, and making the farm, which was renowned for it's good fare, his headquarters. And MT. Craig was a handsome and dashing young widower, and Jane Heth had made up her mind that to be Mrs. Craig was her des- tiny.
 Indeed it might have been, for perse- erance can accomplish wonders, had not Annie Conyers brought her trunks, her crocheting, her sketch book, and her blue parasol to the farm for that summer.
 Annie was not prettier, nor younger, nor better dressed, nor more accom- plished than Jane; but man loves one woman, and does not love another, and who can explain why?
 a Amongst those hills and on that lake the Colonel gave his heart to little An nie. and she gave hers to him.
 But on the day that called him home, nothing had been said that could have been construed into an engagement, but he had asked her if he might write to her, and she had said "Yes," and Jane had heard the request and the permission.
 Jane did not love MT. Craig, but her vanity was piqued, and she had greatly I,a oh oh have held as mistress of his handsome house. Her heart was very bitter as she turned away, for he had not asked her to write to him; and if their ac- quaintanee dropped, as it seemed about to do, her hope of clenching the nail when they met again in the city the coming winter, as they would be likely to do, would be quite futile. As she stood watching the stage drive away, she felt that the summer had been wasted, and that there was nothing left to do but to pack up and return to the city at the end of the week.
 Mean while Annie had run away to her room. She fancied she knew what would be in the letter which he would send her, and she felt what her answer would be. She waited to be alone and to think over it. and until tea time she hid herself from Jane, and from hos pitable Mrs. Wilton herself. When, however, she came down to tea, she looked so bright and happy, that Jane felt like wreaking vengeance upon her.
 Three days had passed since the ColOnel's departure, and one evening Jane stood leaning over the gate, when 8 wagon drove up the road and stopped beside it a moment. From beneath it's covers peepsdith white head of an old farmer.
 "Good evening, Miss," said he. s'I have been to the post office, and they said there was some letters for Wilton's folks, and I fetched lem over. Ain't got my glasses with me, so I don't know who they're writ to; but you can see. All wel3 That's right. Good evening""
 And away he drove, leaving Jane with two letters in her hand, one fol herself and one for Annie Conyers.
 Her own was from her mother. She knew the writing; the other-well, she knew the hand that directed that, also
 It was from MT. Craig.
 ''And am I to give it to her ?" nut. tered Jane, between her teeth-Iw
 And then with an impulse whict seemed to her unconquerable, she hur ried away towards the woods, hiding both letters in her pocket.
 At least she could delay her rival'i happiness for while; she would no carry it to her at once.
 Then alone in the green shadow sh' looked long and curiously at the super scription. ..--.-..-
 - Yes, it was from Craig, and wha had he said? Perhaps, after all, h. was not in earnest. Could she bu read what he had written, she woul' know.
 She took pin from her dress, an, drew it along the edge of the envelope It opened little space, but the res chung as closely as before. Impatien at this, she forgot all prudence, an' drew the pin across the paper with sudden push. It cut its way through and now the mischief was done, Jane' heart beat hard and fast with terror, bu she had gone too far to stop.
 ''I shall know the truth" she saiG sand letters are always being lost i these country post offices; I'll read ii since I've torn it.'' Then she pulle away the envelope, spread the sheet ( paper on her knee, and read the follow ing words:
 "DEAR Mss CoNYERs: It seems cd that man of thirty should be afraid stand face to face with girl of twenty and tell her that he loved her; but could not summon courage enough do so, nor to ask the question that fo lows such confession. So far fTol you, commit my hopes to this paper and having in plain words said l loV you, ask you plainer words still-do yo love me enough to be my wife? If yo a do, write to me at once, pray, an z make me the happiest man on earth b telling me so. If you do not, the pain neither of us by a refusal; simpl leave my letter unanswered. I ca bear it better so. But I shall pray fc letter, for love you better than m life.
 #es. --se !. rs s-.aa- HARRY CRAIG."
 Jane drew deep breath. s'So it h.
 gone as far as this,' she said. "Wh
 fools men are! She will be glad enoue
 to say "yes;" but if should destrt