The true northerner., 1878-05-24
COME TOGETHER AT LAST.

tano on ner way nome from tea-Darty.
She wore a brown silk dress and q
brown bonnet, and carried large brown
parasol in her hand.
The browns were of different shades,
and ran softly into each other, like the
tints upon dove.
All the lines of her figure were smooth
and rounded.
She was very pretty old lady indeed,
and must have been very pretty girl,
though she was spinster, and people
who believed that all unmarried women
were left upon the boughs of single
biessedness because they tempted no.
body to pluck them must have owned
that it could not be 30 in her case.
Down the lane, coming toward her,
walked gentleman.
He was tall and broad; his hair was
gray, and his hat was gray; and his sum-
mer suit was gray; his beard was gray
also.
He, oddly enough, was softly shaded
off like another sort of dove.
The green trees were all about them
both, the green grass beneath their feet.
The roses nodded over the fence.
Of these had been two young people
instead OF two old people, one might
have fancied it lovers rendezvous, but
they were old.
OF course there could be no romance
about them.
In the middle of the lane, shaded by
great chestnut trees, stood an old house.
Honeysuckle draped the porch.
There was an old-fashioned sweep to
6he well.
1t was altogether a thing of the past
no modern cottage of architectural
mysteries. It was so old-fashioned that
1T must have been the same when those
two old people were young. Yes, when
their parents were born doubtless it
stood, by no means new house, Just as
1T stood now.
The pretty old lady in brown reached
the gate of this house first.
She lifted the latch and stood looking
down the road, thinking that it must be
that the handsome old gentleman in gray
had lost his way and would inquire of
her, for tie lane was no thoroughfare
because of fence and gate ard sign.
with "All persons are forbid to trespass
upon these grounds nailed upon it.
The old lady's father had put up the
sign the day after the peddler had stolen
all his pears.
No neighbor minded it, but strangers
did.
So the old lady waited courteously to
tell the stranger that he might take the
short cut through the orchard if he
chose.
Ee walks like somebody I know
Who can 1t be 2" she asked herself.
Then she suddenly blushed and looked
prettier than ever. Yes, certainly. it
could not be because no one had desired
to pluck her that she remained faded
rose upon the branch-Miss Carney. not
Mrs. anybody.
On came the old gentleman in his gray
0oDat. and, as he looked at the little old
lacy, he doffed his gray hat.
:" Madame" said he, "this is where
" Mr.. Edward Carney used to live. L know.
Does he live here now?"
But the old lady looked at him with a
sudden start.
",Oh !" she cried and added, "No,
he does not"
He is" began the old gentleman.
- 1t is his tombstone that you can see
under the great willow in the highest
part of the churchyard," she said. point
ing'9sarough the trees. He was so when
he died"
"Time flies fast" said the old gentle
man.
!" Fearfally fast" sighed the old lady.
She was not looking at him now, but
at the flowers in the borders at her feet.
" Mr.. Carney was a widower when l |
knew him, and had but one child-a
daughter, said the old gentleman in
gry. "She is living, is she not ?''
Yes, said the old lady.
Bat she cannot be Miss Carney STILL"
said the old gentleman.
But she is, said the old lady, and
looked him in the face again.
Their eyes met. Hers were brown and
his were grey.
people alter out of knowledge in
forty years." said she 4; "and how on
earth came to know you / don't know.
Tor you look like your own grand
father, Mark Turcer."
"Ask the old gentleman to walk in.
Ehen, Miss Carney" said he; "for he
ought to be more weary than he used to
grow on the same road life time ago,
coning from the mill, you remember,
Priscy, every Sunday evening""
"Did you?" said she, pretending to
forget. "Oh, yes of course I'll ask you
to walk IN, Mr.. Turner"
She turned. He followed her.
They sat down in the parlor-one on
either side of the polished table.
Over it, between the windows, hung
the looking. glass with it's narrow gilt
frame.
The bookcase filled the recess.
On the mantel-piece were some shell
Ilowers under glass.
There was the stiff sofa with the black
cushion like slice of futed column;
there we're the six chairs to match, and
the claw-footed sideboard.
There had been no children to break
or scratch things.