Daily globe., 1879-09-28

00CA uO .
"Be good to yourself, Eddie, and next
winter, if any little lonely Adelians come,
cold and frightened, to the little red
ol-house yonder, be kind to them as
you were to me-"
Something choked in my throat, and I
could not say word; but kissed her
more than once; and after she had slipped
from my arms, and was twenty rods away
from me, sat down and cried like a
baby, because I was never to see Ade-
lima again.
1t was not long before the rumor was
rife IN the neighborhood that Mrs. La
grange had married middle-aged city
millionaire, and that the young widow
and her child had found new protector
in place Of the one death had taken from
them. ~ gass
Years fitted BY was twenty-four;
had fought through the great rebellion
entered the army private and came out
Of it captain, shattered in health, and
utterly depleted in pocket, to ind myself
at home again, i'll and altogether distrust-
full of fortunes smile. 5 a#a q.
In my frequent walks to the village
post-office, l often passed by the red
school-house, and never without sigh Of
regret for the many happy, care-free days
spent within its battered walls {.
Among the letters handed to me one
morning was one postmarked New York,
which Informed me Of the agreeable fact
that, through the lnstrumentality
of a friendof mine, whom he
was anxious to serve, the under.
signed, MIR. Maxwell, had been
induced to extend to me a commercial
opening at the liberal salary of two thou
sand year, to be increased if merited
There was fortune for me in the offer, and
I accepted of it with alacrity. ~. =
Mr.. Maxwell, rich New York mer-
chant, from the first took lively interest
in my advancement. The unknown friend
I could not account for in any other way
than supposing it to be some soldier com
rade whom I had betriendcd in the past.
Within a month I was fairly establish
ed at my new post of duty, and succeed
SO we'll in pleasing Mr.. Maxwell, that at
the end of my sesond year he sent me to
Europe in the interest Of the house
When 1 returned, I was given a weeks
vacation, which I spent among the breezy
the pleasant September days in tramping
through the woods and bypaths and
fields that were the chosen haunts of nv
boy hood. =
I was just turning the curve in the
road where the Canada thistles grew, and
SO lost in my walking revery, that was
almost opposite lady standing in their
midst before was aware of her presence.
~ am glad you still love theold scenes,
Mr.. Durand,' she said, without express
ing the least surprise. ~
was astonished. Here was a lady
who, to the best of my knowledge, I had
never seen before, addressing me as tami
lia1ly as If we had known each other all
our lives. @s..a
Names are treacherous things, and ii
l were ever so fortunate as to have known
yours. I am guilty of having forgotten
it" replied. q.
seMen forget easily, am told: but I
had hoped to find you an exception to the
rule"
A very awkward silence on my part en-
sued. She took pity on my evident en-
barrassment, and continued:
''Has your battle with the world entire
ly driven from your recollection all the
old school faces2'
Her voice dropped to its old sweet,
clear, winning cadence, thrilling my
whole being with delight.
'sAde1ina!"
/ caught her hand, and, before knew
what was doing, had carried it to my
lips and kissed it.
"Excuse me-" I stammered; ':but +
am so glad to see you, and you seem Just
the same little gl1l kissed here years
ago-not bit taller, not a bit Older
only Ade!ina, always lovely and always
loved"
Then I told her all about myself, how
prosperous was, and the strange man
ner in which l had been brought to the
notice OF my kind employer. When
had finished. she merely said, In her
simple way: 5sse
81 know it."
'sYou appear to know every thing. Do
you know Mr.. Maxwell2"
''He is my father"
''And my unknown friend-''
'"Adellna."
I staggered back, in my soul ashamed
that I should owe every good in life-ev-
erything to woman who owed me
nothing but the poor favor of once having
united for her a wretched black-and-
white worsted hood. I turned away, cut
to the heart, but she put out detaining
hand
s'Dont go, Mr.. Durand-that is, don't
go feeling hurt; for it would make me
very unhappy If you were to 60 away
angry with me-
Unhappy! What am I, that pain to
me should render you unhappy" l an
swered, bitterly.
81 knew Of no other way in which to
express my gratitude"
Z sGratitude for what2" The question
was rudely abrupt, but she took no notice
of my ungracious speech.
"Gratitude for. the kindness given me
long ago and which have missed ever
since the day we parted here by the
roadside. y
''Are you conscious Of what you are
saying, Adelinas"
.sPerfectly."
GLOW am to understand your words?.'
"That I leave to your good judgment, !"
she smiled, lowering her eyes
She han an instant illustration of nv
"good Judgment in the way imprison-
ed her two little hands in both Of NINE.
and kissed the sweet mouth for it's shyly
whispered promise. Is.
walked home with Adelina-O, so
happy and when asked her hand of
IT, Novuol1 ho sold