The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1877-11-22

ing heart, he also took list of names for
future work he hoped to be able to pro-
cure or provide.
The long forenoon was nearly over
when the landlord knocked at the door
of "73," second floor. Upon his list this
floor was noted. "Mr. Moore, mother
and sister," and opposite the name
! punctual." 1t was a neat house, and
when the door of the sitting-room was
opened the landlord saw at once that the
tenants here were people of refinement,
even II poverty compelled them to set
up their Lares and Penates in Flyaway
court.
An open piano, few choice plants, a
canary in a gilded cage, bookcase of
well-selected volumes, and some mex
pensive but tasteful ornaments. relieved
the simple furniture. The ingram car
pet was of soft, pretty colors, and the
curtains white as milk
A young girl, about nineteen, in SIM
pie dress of blue wooden, had opened the
door, and waited to hear the strangers
business.
81 am Gordon Doane," he said to her,
the owner of these houses. NV agent,
Mr.. Smith, is seriously i'll from fall, and
cannot attend to the business for me, 50
/ | have to come myself"
! But while he spoke the color came and
went upon his noble, handsome face,
and his voice faltered like a girls. For
the face before him stirred tender mem
cries in his heart, and he read trouble
there that moved him strangely.
Will you walk in and take a seat?"
the girl said, ina low voice. al will
speak to my mother"
But when he had accepted the invita-
ton. she hesitated, looking with her soft
brown eyes wistfully into his face
Reading there nothing to brighten her,
she said:
Before she comes, | must tell you we
are not prepared to pay the rent. l
know she said, hastily seeing him about
to speak, " that it is two months due, but
yet we are not ready. My brother has
been discharged from the house where
he has been employed for seven years,
after the panic, and | lost more than
half my music scholars. Mother has
not been been obliged to do any work,
except 10 keep house, for some years, and
she cannot now obtain it, | am very
sorry, but if you will let us remain here
we will try soon 70 make up what is due
We have one months rent for you, but
not two"
"What position did your brother oc-
cupy?"
"He was salesman in - & Co.'S
dry goods store. They will speak well
for him, sir, but they were forced to re-
duce the number Of employees"
as he at home now?"
ono sir he is seeking work"
VIII you ask him to call at this ad-
dress? 1t may be in my power to help
him obtain employment" said Mr..
Doane, Offering his card. q should
like to see your mother"
9 will send her to you"
In the little kitchen, busy about din
ner, the widow, in her faded black dress,
looked hard at the visitors card. She
was very pretty yet, though middle
aged, with glossy brown hair, and eyes
as soft and dark as fawn's. Her clear
complexion was like child's, and her
figure was straight and graceful as that
of her daughter.
"Gordon Doane!" she said, 81 never
knew that Mr.. Smith was not our land
lord, Nellie. Gordon Doane! | Won
der"
What, mother, your cheeks are as
red as roses"
" Nothing! nothing. 1t is not likely
to be the same Gordon Doane. Watch
the pies, Nellie; we will try to give
Thaddeus some dainties on Thanksgiy-
ing Day. 1t can't be Gordon Doanen
And yet whispering this, Mrs. Moore's
heart futtered as she entered the little
sitting-room. A tall, handsome man
rose to greet her-a man with iron-gray
hair and mild blue eyes; a man of fifty,
and yet no less the country boy who had
offered her silent homage in her girIhood
Her landlord now as wealthy, yet as
humble standing there as the boy who
had said farewell so many years ago.
at is May Appleton" he said, ex-
tending both hands.
"Ah, so long ago" she answered,
smiling.
"MrS. Moore" he said q uickly, " beg
pardon. The sight of your face blotted
out all the years since saw it last. How
glad Hattie will be-"
g Is Hattie here?"
Yes, widow for many years, with
a son taller than his uncle. You have
son also, your daughter tells me?"
Yes, | have two Children
Then from one common place to
another the talk drifted, till the tones
grew more earnest, memory had reas-
serted her power, and in simple but
earnest words, Gordon Doane told the
story of his love.
g In all these years, May" he said,
Il have seen no face, have heard no
voice that made me for one moment wish
! to fill your place in my heart, though |
/ know that another had won the love
had hoped to gain. | thought of YOU as
one removed from me by your marriage,
and prayed for your perfect happiness.
But you are free now, May, and can
offer you The love you never suspected"
81 more than suspected it after YOU
left Mlllhaven, Gordon, and / grieved
for you, knowing how honest and loyal
your heart would be. In the room YOU
left, and which | helped Hattie put to
rights, found slip of paper folded in a
Bible, and upon it was written-shall /
tell May Doane"
g | had forgotten
" 1t told me your secret. | loved my .
husband with all my heart, and | often .
hoped you had forgotten your boyish love
in the happy domestic life you would be .
sure to give to any woman who loved /
YOU
But now, May. Now, knowing /
have been true to you. Now, that you
are free"
She put her hand in his.
4" If my love can add to your happi-
ness, Gordon, it is yours"
9 Not come home, either, and it is six
o'clock"
Mrs. Everett looked up as her son
entered the sitting-room with these
words
"Do You mean uncle? Has he not
been to the otfice?"
=" Not all day. Could any harm have
came to him."
No, l hear his latch-key now"