The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1877-02-15

4
far-of look, with a gaze as OF one wh'
waits and expects; his voice was low
and he spoke seldom.
His sister, unlike him in faces,
much unlike him that you would no
have been able to trace even fain
family resembled him in
one respect, that her eyes, which were
large, and of hazel tint, had TIL,
same far-off look, and, in repose, gazet
out upon space like her brothers, a
If waiting and expecting. She was
tall, and of such figure as the Grace,
love; her head, crowned with it'
glory of brown hair, was OF such 4
shape rs Canova would have desire,
for model her face outlined as ii by
some poet inspired with the sister ar
of painting.
1t was face born for mirth ant
gayety; but the gayety had gone on,
of it, and left it prematurely grave
A look of care dwelt upon il forever
save when she turned her eyes upon
her brother, and etfaeed the lines oi
trouble round her mouth.
Observant members of the Lemirt
household made out, in addition ia
their personal note, few other promi
nent facts as regards their lodgers
One was that they seemed all three
utterly careless IA regarded their food
On washing-days, that is, on Monday
Tuesday, and Wednesday, when the
mother of the family and the maid OF
all work were engaged with the linen
of the household, they accepted, not
murmuring as weaker brethren muir.
mur, cold boiled mutton, with or with.
out potatoes; they drank nothing bu,
tea. coffee, or milk, except Ben, who
once day, toward the evening, Wis.
tied the nearest public-house with al
empty pannikin, which he brought
back full. They went out, the brother
and sister, good deal in the daytime
and at night they always sat side by
side, with joined hands, before the
fire, looking into it. Ben Croil at such
times sat with them, his legs gathered
up under his chair, his head against
the wall, sound asleep. Sometimes in
the morning, too, the pair would sit
silently for hours together. Once Ru-
pert Lcmire, the eldest son, heard the
lady say, after one of their long ST.
lences,
George, if Boston Tom is living
any where in the world, we must find
him. If he is dead, we must find who
and what he was"
Aud on another occasion, Nettie Lee
mire, going to make the lodger's bed,
saw her on her knees by the bedside.
in an agony oftears, crying. passion
ately, SO Lord how long?'
There was only one other thing re-
markablc about the new dodgers,
which was the way in which Miss
Elwood sought Ruth Warneford's So
ciety. Now at this time Ruth was
melancholy, by reason of her shat
tered love castle, and would fain have
sat i'm silence; but she could not de-
cline the invitations which Miss El-
wood showered upon her-to dine
with her, to take tea with her, to sit
with her, to walk Will. her And ii
was difficult to resist the kindness
with which these invitations were
offered, and the sympathy with which
the girl was gradually encouraged to
respond to these advances. Little by
little Ruth found herself talking with
Miss Elwood Helen, ~ she called
her-as if she had been her oldest
friend. Besides, the room up stairs
was retreat from the chatter OF the
children, and quiet evening with
her new friends rested her after days
hard work ut teaching.
They got into the habit of sitting
together, talking in a low voice to
each other, while Mr.. Elwood, a rest
less man, paced up and down the room
in silence; and they talked as if he
We're not there, because he never
spoke, and never seemed to listen.
And one Sunday afternoon Helen
Elwood told the girl thing which
made her heart leap up, and brought
such joy to her rs she thought could
never come again.
1t was II very quiet Sunday after
noon. After dinner old Ben might be
heard marching up and down the
pavement Of the street. OH the sunny
side, where the east wind was not felt.
With him was Rupert Lemire, and
they were discbursing- is, Ben
was discoursing ships and storms
and sailors lives ahoat. Helen and
Ruth sat by the fire, the latter lying
with her head on the elder girls
knees. Mr.. Elwood sat in the win
dow, silent and grave, looking at the
group of two.
"And you are quite alone, poor
child?" Helen asked. "No brothers,
no sisters?"
II had n brother once" said the
girl, coloring painfully. But he-he
went away eight years ago, and
| have never seen him since. Poor
George! poor dear GEORGE"
She laid her cheek on the hand of
her new found friend. Helen felt the
tears fall fast.
Do not speak of it if it pains YOU"
she went on, glancing at her brother,
who sat rigid, pale, and with trem-
bling lips.
"ies, let me tell you all, and then
you will not say that | have not de-
ceived you. Listen. We were SO
happy, George and together-only
we two, you know. In the evening
he came home from the City, and ]
used to make the tea, though | was
such little thing. There never was
so kind Il brother, nor such Il good
man, because now, you see, | know
what the young men sometime are
Oh, me! How cruel it all Is to think
of! For our happy life was suddenly
stopped"
She paused a moment while Helen
sOOfhed and porresSel ber