The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1879-08-21

nave 80 much surplus matter on hand.
And the other day, il you believe me,
she came to SEQ why her piece hadn't
been published. Well, we fell into con.
versation and somehow before knew il
l had partially engaged her next manu-.
script, and she's coming again to-day,
concluded the editor with groan.
why didn't you tell her you couldn't
accept iii inquired Cliffe, soberly.
/ We'll, 1 can't explain just why. She
was the loveliest creature l ever saw,
and it always was hard for me to say
mo- to the ladies, said the editor spolo-
getically. Nov, don't look SO disgust.
cd. You probably would not have
done any better in my place
Indeed 1 fancy myself capable Of
saying No, when No is needed, in spite
of pretty face, said Cliffe, scornfully.
'Oh, no doubt it seems very easy,
said Mr.. Pixley, with an injured cir.
Just take my place for couple Of hours,
and you will change your mind
I'll doit,' exclaimed Oliffe, springing
up. Bat stay possibly might be re-
cognized.
Good, said the editor. I'lI manage
that; Noah, run up stairs and get Uncle
David's wig and spectacles, and here is
some false whiskers I wore to masquer-
ade last week. There 1 fancy your
best friends wouldn't know you in this
disguise if they should chance to call in
my absence, which is not likely. / de-
clare she is coming now,' he added, look
ing out of the window.
'Who?' inquired Mr.. ..HuntIy, pla-
cidly.
'Why, our young contributor, Of
course. Goodbye, I'm off, and Mr..
Pixley put on his hat and under the
pretense Of leaving the room, slipped
discreetly into tall cupboard used for
packing away back numbers Of the Re.
ViCW.
Meanwhile forest of gray whiskers
partially hid the handsome face of our
hero; long duster concealed the ele.
CANT suit, and he stood transformed
from fashionable young man into a
gray-haired, benign old gentleman.
Feeling rather amused than otherwise at
the absurdity of his position, CliHe
stepped behind the desk and commenced
looking over the Mss, as Noah showed
the lady in ct the door.
rs the editor in p
Something in the sweet, low tones
seemed strangely familiar. Cliffe started
and looked up.
Surely that graceful figure, the proud
ly poised head ripping with bronze
brown hair, the changeful violet eyes
under the darker brows and lashes-no,
he could not be mistaken. Before him
stood the love Of his boyhood, his be-
trothed bride, and the heaatless coquette
of four years before. Matte false, no
doubt, mercsnary no doubt, but lovelier
than ever.
Us the editor in? she repeated.
NO. said CHffe, recovering himself
in part, 'He-he is gone, he went away
this afternoon.
Indeed How unfortunatel said
the visitor in tone OF disappointment.
/ wished very much to see him. L have
short sketch here which he promised
to look over this afternoon
Il am manager in his absence said
Cliffe politely, 'and will, you will per-
NIT me, attend to it myself
The old familiar handwriting danced
for moment before Clif'e's eyes as he
glanced eagerly at the bottom OF the
page for the signature. Yes, there it
was, Matte e. Raymond She was
not married then. Perhaps lover suf-
ficiently wealthy had not yet made his
appearance.
All this passed through Cliffe's mind
as he glanced the manuscript over, and
also the disagreeable fact that it was his
duty to criticse and reject it. He would
have given worlds to have escaped the
ordeal just then, but it was too late, 80
he laid down the Mss, saying in loud
grim voice, Il am sorry, miss, to disap.
point you, but l cannot accept your con-
tribution.'
Not accept itl'
The tones were slightly tremulous,
and Cliffe saw the lovely face grow
white, and noticed for the first time that
she was thinner aud paler than when he
had seen her last, four years before,
during which time, he had been abroad.
Excuse me, but you look tired and
i'll. Pray be seated. Noah, glass
OF water for the lady. Pardon me
what l am about to say said the old
gentleman, as his guest YEARLY accept
ed the offer, but believe that we each
have some especial mission, or vocation,
il you please, in life. Yours may not
be Of the literary kind. but may, never
theless be just as important
Vocation 7 said Miss Raymond Bit
terly. There was time indeed when
might have sat down with folded hands
and waited for my vocation to
come to me; but that time is now past.
am not, sir, as you seem to imagine,
trying to acquire wealth and fame. Far
trnnn II. NV nnnkhar has been very Ill