The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1880-09-11


academy, which stood where she had
once thought it an honor to attend the
district school, in a plain, one-story
structure of faded brick.
No doubt all these alterations were for
the better but they made her heart ache
with sense of loss unspeakable.
And she turned into the shaded lane
that led only to the Blessing farm, dread
ing to see the old home desecrated by
the strangers hand.
No; there it stood, as she had always
known 1.-THE very picture of home
comfort, the center of all those modest
luxuries that weI-to-do farmer, of all
other men, may most easily command.
But. although the dear old house was
unchanged, its inmates were new and
strange to her. A stout, middle-aged
man, in white summer suit, with a
broad-hrimme ed hat and cigar, sat on
the steps of the piazza reading a news
paper. A acknowledgement lady,
some years his junior, swung in ham,
mock upon the lawn, lost in novel.
Several children, in broad brimmed
hats and brown Holland blouses, were
making the lives of two nurses burden
to them, further down the lawn, among
the elm trees, where a swing had hung
from time immem orial.
City" was stamped upon every face
and figure that she saw.
Had Maurice sold the place to some
retired merchant, who would over-or-
nament and disfgure it in the modern
villa stylep
eff one could but live their lives over
after they grow older, and are taught by
experience what is best for them! %
thought Hester in her sadness, once
more.
She would have gone up to the house
and asked leave to rest and look around
if it had remained in the care of old
Farmer Williams and his wife, the ten
ants of the upper farm.
But she could not face these prosper
Gus, happy lefty people," who would
look at her with their coldly-cur ious
eyes. and wonder, almost audibly,
what she could want" even ifthey did
not absolutely mistake her for q
tramp"
81 wish I could have gone through
the strawberry pasture once more" she
thought, as she turned back toward the
railway station, tired, hungry and un-
refreshed.
At the foot of the lane gentleman,
in summer suit of silver-gray, stood
leaning against the bars, with his straw
hat drawn down over his eyes SO far
that he failed to see the strangers silent
approach.
"Will you let me pass, if you please %
said Hester, at last. after waiting some
moments.
He wheeled round, as if she had
struck him, and stared doubtfully in
her face.
She uttered great cry.
:" Maurice! Maurice! I heard that you
had sold the farm, and gone to Color
adom
Hester, can this be you," he an
swered.
His eyes seemed to devour her. Words
rose to his lips, and were forced back
again. At last he asked:
SIS your husband here with you,
Hester?"
My husband?"
"Why, yesl I heard that you were
married very soon after you went to the
city,"
"You heard wrong, Maurice! I have
not been married. have never even
thought of such thing"
But why did you go, then, Hesterp
Why did you leave DeepdeneP Why
did you re fuse to marry me, tiff there
was no one else in the wayp"
Poor Hester!
She thought of the hot city garnet, of
the dream of fame that never had been
realized, of the unlucky book that was
lying in the black trunk, of the little
burial hoard SO hardly earned and
saved.
The tears came quickly to her eyes,
obscuring the honest, handsome face on
which she gazed.
"Don't cry, Hester" said Maurice
Blessing, taking her hand. "And tell
me why you would not marry me,
dearP"
because was a foolr' sobbed Hes
ter
SIS the folly endedP" asked Maurice,
hiding smile as he bent over her.
Cannot you give me different an
swer now, HesterP If you can, we will
be just the happiest pair on earth, here
on the dear old farm"
"But you sold it and went to Colo.
rado," said Hester, wonderingly. "Ai
least heard So"
81 was fool, too, Hester; for went
to Colorado, and was quite ready tc