St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1878-04-26

lows ran lightly up. A door stood half
open she tapped, and in answer to a
faint stCome in,n entered the bedroom,
where, covered with resplendent star
patterned patchwork quilt, lay her late
fellOw-traveler.
The pale cheeks, from which much of
the childish roundness had wasted,
flushed at sight of her.
81 hope you will forgive me for COM
ing up so unceremoniously," began Fe-
licia, speaking rapidly to hide her own
nervousness. 'tYour old housekeeper
gave me leave, and well, felt so sOr-
ry for you, sick and alone in a strange
place, that wanted to come. If it tires
you, you must send me away"
The girl looked at her a moment in
silence. Then she said, ''Won't you sit
down? There's chair" 4 IT,.
Miss Marlow sat down. She was a
pleasant object to look at in her olive
greens and pheasant browns, with
cheeks and eyes frightened by frosty
air, and the invalid left it.
"You was in the cars the day l came,
wasn't you ~ she said. / recollect your
haS. I've been sick most ever since.
1t Itseems n long time.n
eThe first few weeks in new place
are apt to seem long," replied Felicia,
kindly; land dare say you miss your
home."
81 haven't any home to miss"-sadly.
'Tndeedw
''No. l don't remember my folks at
all, or scarcely. My father he died
when | was born, and mother when /
was but two. l hadn't anybody else, SO
they sent me to the orphans asylum,
and lived there fifteen years."
"Poor child Did you? And what
then 2"
"Then was took by Mr.. Parker over
to Cheshire. l was their help, but they
was very good to me, and it was most
of home I'd ever had. Miss Parker
she liked to have me call her 'ma,' and
| did,
"And then you married Mr.. Dalrym-
ple."
Yes" The blue eyes clouded over,
and the lips closed tightly over the one
word.
"And now hope you'll have a real
home of your own at last. What a
pleasant old place this is! Even at this
season one can see that. And my
friends tell me that Mr.. Dalrymple
is so kind and clever, and so much
respected in the neighborhOod. / am
sure you cannot fail to be happy with
him, though Just at first the farm may
seem little lonely and strange"
The reply to these well-meant re-
marks was unexpected, for the bride
burst into a violent fit of crying, which
no soothing on the part of her dismayed
guest availed to check.
''I'll tell you about it," she sObbed at
last, quieting little, and won to con-
fidence as it were, by the tears in Fell
cia's own eyes. 81 haven't had any
one to tell before, and I'm SO unhappy.
| didn't ever thing | should feel so when
| got married. They all said should
be fool if / did not take Mr.. Dalrym-
pie, because he was so we'll off, and he
wanted me so much: even Miss Parker
said she couldn't countenauce no such
thing as my sayin' no, and I'd never
have such another chance the longest
day | lived. Then Pd never had nc
one to do for me before, and he gave
me such lot of things, and | did SO
like to look nice and pretty like ladies
do, and sol did. And when it was
all over, and had to go off with him,
it came to me all of a sudden what I'd
done, and how my whole life was a
going to be just the same thing always
and he was always a-gOing to be there,
and / knew the girls laughed at us be-
hind our backs, and Louisa Brooks
called him 'Spindletoes,' and yet I'd got
to stay by him and never go any where
else, or be anything else. And it came
over me, and it was awful! | hadn't
ever realized it before.n And she look
ed with piteOus eyes into Miss NAL
lows face, who strOked her hand gent.
ly, but wisely made no answer as yet.
81 s'pOse folks do call this a pleasant
place." she went on, after little pause
"but it don't look pleasant to me.
amt used to country, or to being alone
all day. There was two hundred of IL,
at the asylum, and at Miss Parker's we
was close to the town, and could SET
folks a-passing and hear wagons. 1t.
so still here l can hear myself think al
most, and the wind makes noises in the
chimney, and lie awake ut night ant
listen. It's like a voice, and it says
'AlOne ! alOnel alone !! and groans, an(
it frightens me awfully."
81 don't think it says that" exclaimed
Miss Mallows, with sudden inspira
ton. ''lt says "A home! home ;
homer That's what wind always
seems to me to say in hOmely old chin
neys like these" Then she though
to herself, Shall /? or shap't 1? l hat,
preaching, and l hate meddling; bu
there's chance to do bit of good
may be, and-yes, ri risk it.
''Now listen to me, DEAR" she wen
on, aloud, sOftening ber voice as if to
child. "This is what l think abou
your position. 1t seems to me that yol
are just at the point when you must de
eide f,r yourself whether you'll be
happy woman or an unhappy one fo
the rest of your life"
''How9 What do you mean 2"
"Why, you were lonely girl yo1
know, with no real h9ms ls. Of to XSpr slyr 9%H
and taken you into his. He loves vol
dearly now, and you have great dea
of influence over him, and can do pret
ty much as you like nOW but how Ion,
will that last if you go on crying an,
being unhappy, and showing how littl
you care for him ~
81 don't know" whispered the bride
family.
"Then you are married, you know
You have given a promise, and mus
keep it, even if it makes you sorry
Promises are solemn things. But thinl
you can keep it and be happy too. An,
it strikes me you have chance to do
most beautiful thing"
''What is that ?" wonderingly.
40 make up to a good man aoho love
you for a hard, hard thing in his life
Think how dreadful it must Away