The Highland weekly news. [volume] (Hillsborough [Hillsboro], Highland County, Ohio) 1853-1886, 1878-02-21
THE BURNT LETTER.

=
ly the arrow she had kept in her qui-
yer.
Your son, Grantley, goes over the
hill to the Burdock's pretty often, Mrs.
Webb, " said she.
, II don't know it if he does" replied
o the old lady.
. Naturally he wouldn't tell you until
0 the last, after old BuTdOck's Quarreled
with his dead father" said the neigh
bOr-'-but everybody else knows. It's
, said to be a settled thing. Why, Kezi-
t ah saw him kiss her at the gate one
Sunday night, and even Aunt BurdOck
would hardly go SO far as that unless it
was so, eh2 Well, goodbye"
She hurried off, leaving her hostess
/ dumb and motionless at the door.
= It was some moments before she
even thought of going in and casting
herself into her chair, but she did it at
, last, and fell to talking to herself in this
. wise:-
"Oh, it's worse than anything that
ever happened to me. I've had trou-
bic, heaven knows, but it was the kind
had to bear if God sent it, but this
doesn't seem right. My Grantley to
marry Steven BurdOck's s daughter, the
child of the very worst enemy his
father ever had, a girl brought up by a
woman despise! Sarah BurdOck never
had the ways liked, nor did the things
thought right for a woman to do.
4 Everything is so different with the
Burdocks, so strange. Like ought TO
marry like, or therellnever be a happy
home. But that's the way with men; a
pretty face strikes them and away they
60, and Grantley is like the rest. Why
should he choose Sarah Burdock's
daughter?'
She rocked to and fro as she spoke,
letting her neglected knitting drop into
her lap.
There's Fanny White,n she mur-
INJURED, "a nice, thrifty girl; and Min
ME Holm. Why, her mother is the
best friend I have. There are plenty
Of girls I could have made up my mind
%; though don't know why Grantley
should marry anyone yet. But Ann
BUrdock, with her snowy ways, and her
airs and graces, I never can welcome
her, never, never. I must go away and
live by myself if she comes here to lord
it over the house; and her mother, no
doubt, will come and sitand talk in her
foolish, lighty way; and her sisters
viii sit in the parlor windows, and take
up the table. They'll be here half the
time, and make nobody of me. know
them. Oh! if my Grantley does mar
ry ann Burdock. But it can't bel 1t
| can't!"
Just then foot struck the floor of
the porch, the window raised little,
and through the aperture came flying
two letters. One Il yellow, vulgar
looking missive, the other little white
envelope with a monogram upon it.
The old lady looked up.
The pOstman, who had thus easily
delivered his letters, looked over his
shoulder, and laughed and nodded at
her, as he hurried away with his leather
bag upon his arm, and she put on her
sPectacles to read the superscriptiOns.
The yellow envelope had only one of
those circulars with which tradesmen
of all sorts are in the habit of flooding
the country. The. white one was not
addressed to her, but to her son, and the
monogram was a very pretty silver and |
blue ABB.
"Ann Burdock," said the old lady.
Its 4 note from her. Now wonder
what she has written to my boy? I'd
like tC know. It's very easy opening
these envelopes. 'Tisn't as if they
were sealed; and what harm would it
be for a mother to read letter to her
sOn2 I've half mind to do it. Only |
he'd be angry, maybe. Well, then, I'm
angry too, and with more reason. Yes
Il will"
A little old-fashiOned copper kettle |
simmered and bubbled upon the stove.
A little spirit OF steam arose from its
spout.
The old lady looked at it. Then, ris-
ing, she crept across the floor in a guilty |
sort Of fashion, and held the envelope |
with it flaps downward, close TO the
mouth Of the spout.
She held it for a few moments, and |
then softly touched it with her thumb /
and finger.
1t was quite damp, and one fold peel /
ed away from The other very easily, and |
there lay the little note in her hand.
She might read it if she chose; if
there were secrets in il, Miss Ann Bur |
dock should have secured them better /
than she could with the little touch of .
mucilage the maker Of those envelopes |
had bestowed on each one.
Mrs. Webb took off her glasses, wiped .
them from the steam that had gathered |
upon them, and, still standing, opened |
the sheet of paper adorned with mon
Ogram like that upon the envelope. and |
read as follows:
DLAlA AIlhA-N LIE 4 OAA " ClLI q way
angry with me on Sunday evening, and .
said that if I would not take back what
l had said you would never come TO see
me again. And was too proud and .
too angry to say a word to keep you.
But, Grantley dear, I'm sorry for it
now. You were in the right, and was
to blame, and l take it all back-every
word. 1 never meant it. You are so
downright you think one must mean all
one says, but indeed Inever meant it.
And so forgive me and come again next
Sunday night. find that life would
be a very sad thing for me if we really
quarreled. Yours forever,
ANN.
"SO!' muttered Mrs. Webb, between
her teeth. 1T has gone 50 far, then;
and she Las been showing her temper
and angering Grantley. Well, if he has
spirit enough TO stay away one week,
he'll have spirit enough to stay alto
gether, perhaps"
Then she gave an angry stamp.
"Why do 1 comfort myself with
thatY" she said. u know this letter