The Portland daily press., 1880-12-06

quietly went away himself. with a kind Of
Srave regret inhisl face. On this last morn
ng. Miss Armour had just left US along
With young lawyer. to drop oranges and
lemons among the steerage passengers, when
noticed the New Zealander looking after
her with sadder regret than usual-almost
pain-in his eyes. He had such handsome
lark eyes! l could see that without my
glasses.
Now" said to myself, 81 hope he isn't
going to get sofia sensible, gentlemanly,
lgreeable man like him, and quite old
enough to be her fatherv' And so looked
u him to see If he was, when suddenly he
turned upon me.
''At least, you might have written, Agatha
Wells!' said he, sharply.
started, as you may think, to hear my
own name spoken so Familiarity by stran-
,er; when, looking again, behold! / saw
'enea'h the bronze. and under the wrinkles,
and behind the beard a face that twenty years
,efore was the dearest in the world to me
he face OF Duncan Ashley! We parted one
lay expecting to meet on the next; but that
'Venl g he was called away, wrote in
stead of coming. In the letter he said,
what he had SAID before with his eyes-yes,
nose same beautiful eyes-that was the
choice of his heart and the desire of his
life.
Answer me-" said he; 81 cannot wait till
[ see you.''
So l anso ered-a long. foolish letter,
though there was no need of writing; for he
lad read all could say long before with
hose eyes of his. Then | watched and
waited for him; but never saw him nor
heard one word more. If you are young YOU
ca imagine the slow dying out of hope and
'xpectation; and if you are old, you know
low such things can be lived over and
hidden In secret graves.
But now, as though the graves had been
'pened, and the judgment set, came this
sudden reproachful question up. ON the
buried .ast. fairly caught my breath, as
turned back my eyes and looked him in
the face again.
"Forgive me-" said he directly, in a
gentler tone. II did not mean to speak
You brought it out with your eyes; that
questioning tur" was so familiar. OF course
you were quite right, and never blamed
you. never meant you should see me
again; but the temptation to feel myself be-
side you, only to be in the soothing charm
Of YOUR presence, was too grea. 1t has
been blessing shall carry with me all the
rest of my life."
He was rising to go aw y, but put out
my hand. II did write, Duncan Ashley"
said l; 1.-The letter must have gone wrope.'
You did! You wrotev' he cried, sinking
back in his chair again and looking at me
eagerly. ''What did you say?''
Ihere was only one thing conld say;
and said that" answered, blushing as
though had just written the letter.
A mlddle-aged woman in hood and water
proof! But, dear me! it was only my face
that was middle-aged, after all; my heart
was as young and silly as ever. And as for
Duncan face, the marks of care and
thought and time fell of, leaving in it only
the eternal youth of love.
1t was the old story of a lost letter. and
the older story of proud man believing
himself rejected and humiliated. and fleeing
10 the ends of the Earth .ith his pain.
twenty precious years wastedw said my
New Zealander. "We will not be separated
another day while We both live. There is
cl rgyman among our passengers; and we
will be married this very hour"
That aas so like his headlong decisions!
Certainly he did need sober second thought
like me for ballast. "That cannot bep' 7
cried. "The ceremony wouldn't be legal
without license or something. And l
would by no means do anything SO sensation
al and conspicuous"
But, bless your heart! 1 might as we'll
nave tried to mop up the Atlantic with NV
pocket handkerchief He was so grieved.
ana so impatient and SO resolute land. in
uoeu' Wuen one 'meS to think of it, twenty
Years as long enough for an engagement that
l II ally dropped off my waterproof and nv
sra-sickness, and stood up behind the binna-
cles and was married before eigat bells that
very morning-ring and all. Duncan pro-
duced 1t from small casket, where he had
carried 1t In his wastcOat pocket for the
whole twenty years.
Il could never bear to put the little thing
away said he, looking at it tenderly.
The next day we came to port with the
sun shining and our flags flying. There
was furry of good-byes, a hosting of
trunks, welcoming of friends OH the shore,
and glad hurry to d fro
Among the rest was an instant's nesting
ni MISS Armour's lips on my cheek and
little cling of her hand in mine. the vanish
ing OF SIN le-and she was gone like the
Hash OF fire fly out of my sight forever
But wherever she is a. however she fares.
she has the daily blessing of tro middle
aged hearts, whose way to each other she
uncOnsciuusly lighted.