Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1879-12-18
CHAPTER II,

Some years before the opening of this
little story Sarah Burton had been the
belle OF the rather considerable shire
town where she resided. and when from
half dozen suitors she chose the thriv-
ing young tradesmnn. Charles Wexford.
every one predicted an uncloudcd life
for them and pronounced her most
fortunate girl They did not see the
little secret corner in her heart where
another image was veiled away from
human sight, so closely that even she
herself didnot see it. But truth to tell.
had William lIonshaw been less modest.
Charles Wexford might not have found
it so easy 10 win his bride.
just before her wedding Young Hen
shaw had hidden adicu to his native
place and "gonc to seek his fortune" =" ~
he said. and since that time no one had
learned whittier. though it was believed
hc had gone to Australia.
Sarah had often wondered. in common
with her husband and others. about
him; but never until these adverse DAYS
had she done more. Now. as the iron
entered her soul, plowing up that
which lay hidden there, she found her
self frequently thinking of him. and a
queer little thrill. such rs she used to
feel in his presence years ago. would
send delicious pain quiycring alI
through her heart. only to end in the
dull wonder ifhc we're still alive.
This Thanksgiving day, n she moved
about Aunt Bctscy's Kitchen (Which |
should have told YOU before. was sit
uatcd in the front of the house. right by
the side Of the best Tuom), humming
gay little English air. which. to bc frank
with you, was undoubtedly inspired hy
the appetizinR odurs Of their unusually
good dinner. she made pretty pisturc
TO look upon.
She had just thrown OF AUNT Bc,scy's
kitchen apron of homcly check and was
brushing the spccks OF -four from her
arms, when shadow darkoued the
doorway, and turning. she met the out
stretched hand of him who had been
most IN her thou -hts as she caroled the
ballad they had So often sung together.
William with joyous ring in her
voice. long unknown to It.
Sarah, my poor dove" and the story
which should have been told years he
fore found utteraHCc in the tone. So full
of protecting tenderness i'm which those
four words were spoken.
What n Thanksgiving day was that
Mr.. Hcnshaw was introduced to Aunt
Bctsey. and captivated her heart forth
with by his frank. manly ways, rs we'll
rs his ha Idsome face. with its pleasant
brown eyes and lips red enough for
maiden's. He accepted her invitation
10 dine. and contributed TO the dinner
such dessert as they had never dreamed
of an hour before lie was n Southern
planter now. and down mt the landing
he had n boat-load Of tropical fruits
going noTthward. from which he select
ed nm abundance of the finest, to grace
Aunt Bctsy's Thanksgiving.
After dinner, when the others had
discreet excused themselves, Aunt
Bctscy taking for n walk Mrs. Welford's
little ones. who had been duly admired
and petted by Mr.. William fIenshaw,
Sarah Wexford learned how the Being.
whom she had thanked for the poor
dinner is well as the good oHe. had
wrought from her direst misfortune her
greatest blessing.
fortnight since. as Mr. Henshaw was
experimenting the loading of his boat,
he overheard conversation between
two river men, in which her name, men,
toned by one of them. had attracted his
attention. and he heard the whole story
other trials and prosecutions. told by the
very man who had been deceived into
insulting her n year before.
And you may believe, darling / felt
like blessing him in spite of the pain he
had caused your tender heart, for in his
talk had learned your whereabouts, as
well rs that might now tell you the