The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1880-12-23

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rushing into her arms and beginning to
sob outright. II am frightened to death
Some one lid follow me and speak to
me, aud, oh, look at this on my neck!"
Aunt Eunice led her into the old-fash-
ioned sitting room. and by the light of
the blazing wood fire she examined the
locket that hung from the heavy chain.
"WelI," she said, looking at the pic
tured face it contained, merry twinkle
lighting her eyes, "thc face is very nice
one! There must I've something in your
hemp-sowing, after all, Rosie!''
"Oh, there IS something, Aunt Eunice,' y
panted Rosie. "Didn't l tell you that
Jenny Burr's engaged to the man who
followed her?''
$50 you did, pet. Well, it it must be
II cant be helped. Youth have to mar
~ this handsome stranger, and let poor
Zen and your promise go!'
| Rosie flushed charmingly as she stole
a glance at the pictured face, but the
tears rose to her eyes.
'No, could never do that" she said
II could never break my promise to poor
papa.''
Rosie was in futter Of intense ex-
citement. On the Sunday morning fol-
lowing her adventure, when she took her
accustomed place in Aunt Euuice's pew,
who should she see sitting opposite but
the original of the picture in her locket,
the hero of her hemp seed charm2
"Oh, Aunt Eunice, look, there ne is! =
gasPed Rosie, her heart in her mouth.
$50 l see, my DEAR said the old
lady, quietly; and, after service, when
the stranger came up and introduced
himself as Mr.. Ambrose, she gave him a
cordial invitation to accompany them
home to dinner.
Home with them he went, and Rosie
was like one in dream.
"Was ever man SO handsome, :, so
MISUNDERSTANDING, so noble?' she
burst forth when he was gone. ooh.
Aunt Eunice, If poor papa had left me
fiee?''
"Wait,my dear. When Ben gets home
Ben always was clever boy."
And Rosie waited, and learned, in the
mean time. that sweetest Of all life's
lessons, the lesson of first love.
1t was Christmas Eve. The old sitting
room was hung with holly and mistletoe,
the wide fireplace piled with huge yule
logs. and out in the great roomy kitchen
Aunt Eunice was elbow deep in cakes
and mlnce pies and plum puddings,m max
ing ready to give her son substantial
Welc c1me.
| "Poor Ben, he'll like. my good things,
| I'm sure,' she said, as she trimmed the
crust Of pie. ''He always was fond of
something nice to eat, aud he's been
living on birds nests and puppies and
fried mice in the heather country for so
many years, he'll enjoy Christmas at
home l know. Here, Rosie, child, run
to the shed, and fetch your apron full OF
chips, this oven must be a leetle hotter
Hurry, do!'
Rosie hurried out, but a good half
hour went by before she returned. At
the garden gate she met her hero-her
stranger lover-and Aunt Eunice and
her oven were alike forgotten.
"Come here, l1osic,' he called, III
want to speak to you.'
Rosie went to his side with burning
cheeks and downcast eyes.
give come to say goodbye, Rosie, ,"he
said, looking down upon her with ten
der, dark eyes. ~ am going away for q
little while. You'll not forget me while
I'm gone, Rosle2"
Rosie made no answer.
sand you'll wear this for my sake2
Let me put it on your finger, Rosie?"
But Rosie put aside the sparkling dia-
mond.
mo, Mr.. Ambrose, you can't put it on
my finger"
"Why not, Ros,e2 mean it for an
engagement ring. love you, Rose, and
you belong to me, you know, by virtue
OF the hemp-seed charm. Rosie, you
care for me just little, don't you?''
IL care tor you great deal, Mr.. Am.
brose; but I cannot wear your ring. You
see that clumsy, old thing on my fnger2
Well that and my promise bind Inc to
another. Please 60 away!'
She broke down utterly, and began to
sob like child.
"But if you love me, Rose" began
her lover.
"Whethcr I do or not, it is all the
same. I tell you I'm plighted to another,
and I'll break my heart sooner than I'll
break my promise"
"Then goodbye, little Rosei''
| He kissed her hand and turned down
the garden path. Rosie fed back o<he
kitchen, sobbing fit to break her heart.
my dear,( ,(did you fetch the chips!'
asked Aunt Eunice.
"Oh, auntie, don't; my hearts broken.
l wish I were deadr' cried Rosie, bury
ing her face i'll the cushions of the corner
armchair, and bursting into very storm
of weeping.
Aunt Eunice smiled with infinite con-
tent as she crimped her pie.
"Don't cry, Rosie. Wait til! Ben gets
here and see what he says!'
"But he's goue-Mr. Ambrose, mean
He's gone, and shall never see him
again! Oh, dear, If were dead:"
And all night long, while the christ
mas stars rose and went down, she tossed
upon her bed. that cry upon cry uDon
her lips-"1 wish were dead!'
At last the Christmas morning dawned.
and from steeple to steeple rang that
sweet old song, "Peace on eart0, and
good will toward men,"
Aunt Eunlce stole softly into the dark
ened chamber.
"Rosle, it is Christmas morning, and
Ben has come. You'll get up and see
him, my dear?
She ol,eyed without word, her young
face white and sorrow-worn.
Aunt Eunlce robed her in her pretty
crimson dress with dainty laces at the
throat aud sleeves; then she brushed back
the ripping yellow curls, and fastened
them with spray Of hollyberr,es.
"Come now, Rosie, you must 60 and
speak to Ben.'