The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1880-02-13

THE LOST LETTER.

Uoou nlgnt, Neille.
W will muster up courage enough tC
ask her tomorrow night" he muttered
as he walked slowly down the road tow
ard his home.
Harry Waldo and Nellie Hoyt lived
in a pleasant village, and were, with
out argument, allowed to be the hand
somest couple in the village Of Long
Hill.
They had been excepting company" al
the hrase goes, for a long time; yet
Harry had never spoken his love, for his
weakness" was bashfulness, and had
caused him more anguish than all the
rest of his troubles put together.
This is the reason why Harry looked
70 thoughtful as he walked home that
pleasant summer night.
When putting the "last touches" to his
careful toilet that evening, for the pur-
pose of calling upon Nellie, he had firm
ly resolved to know his fate from her
lips before he babe her good night.
But somehow--he couldn't himselftell
just how or why-when he found him.
self in the presence of the laughing, mis-
chievous little Nellie, his courage-so
firm before--all forsook him; the min
utes and hours glided swiftly away, and
it was time to go home; still, not a word
had be spoken Of the matter SO near
his heart.
This is why he made the remark
quoted at the beginning of the story.
As pretty Nellie Hoyt closed the door
upon the receding form of her lover, she
breathed a soft little sigh, and thought:
ooh, dearl / wonder if he will not
speak soon. l am sure he loves me-and
II love him, my Harry, my lovew
When Harry reached home, he sat
down to think over the events of the
evening.
Suddenly thought came to him, and
taking his pen, he dashed off the follow
ing note:
"DEAR NELLIE-I write because l
dare not speak. l love you; Nellie, truly,
fondly, and would make you my wife.
Can you love me little, darling? l
will try and make you happy. Will you
make this world heaven to me by tell
ingne that you will be mine? l will
wait tomorrow night at our old rock by
the oak near the spring. If you meet
me there, l shall know that you are
mine. If you do not, then l shall con-
slider myself refused, and shall leave
Long Hill forever. Nellie, Nellie! Please
try and love me little! Yours ever,
"HARRY WALDO"
''Therep' said Harry, as he folded up
his note, "that will spare me the pain OF
q refusal from her dear lips. But oh!
how dark will life seem to me if she will
not be mineW
1t was only half mile from Harry's
home to the house of Farmer Hoyt; SO
when the note was sealed and directed to
Nellie, Harry walked up to leave it at
the house of his sweetheart.
The family had all retired when he
arrived there, so he pushed the note
under the door, to be found, as he sup
posed in the morning.
But there's "many slip" and SO it
proved in this case.
The Hoyt homestead was an old one,
and the floor near the door where the
note was left was worn away and full of
large cracks.
In one of these the note fell, and, hid
den from view, rested upon the stone
work under the floor.
The next evening found Harry wait
Ing anxiously at the old oak for Nellie.
But the hours wore slowly away and
eleven o'clock came, and Harry disap-
pointed and sick at heart, turned toward
home, certain that Nellie did not love
him. ... ....
Long Hill seemed distasteful to him
and he resolved to go away.
The next day Nellie heard that her
lover had left Long Hill with the avowed
Intention of never returning.
This inexplicable proceeding on his
part was heavy blow to her, for she
loved him truly and tenderly, and it had
been her life's dream to become his
blessed, happy wife.
Harry left no word or message for her,
and SO she was forced to live on, in that
dread uncertain state of mind close bor-
dering on the gloomy confines of despair.
A year rolled by-another point u pom
the mighty chart of time-and brought
but few changes to the village Of Long
Hill.
Nellie was the same Nellie as the
Nellie of old, save, perhaps, a quiet air
Of sadness that sometimes shaded, for a
moment, sweet face, like the fitting
shadow of floating cload mirrowed
upon the bosom of sleeping lake; a
touch that added new beauty to her
sweet face, so beautiful before.
"Well, wife," said Farmer Hoyt, one
bright summer morning, "that piece of
floor by the door there is worn out. 1t
amt safe, and I'm going to fix it to-day;
for some one will fall through there
next, 50 here goes for repairs" And the
hearty, genial, happy old man started
off to get some lumber and tools to do
the job.
Returning soon, he set vigorously to
work, tearing up the old, decayed floor
ing preparatory to putting down the
new.
"Wife," cried out the CHEEKY old
farmer, as he paused in his labor, and