The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1880-10-22

waiting for him p
Maybe but he did not speak of her, per-
haps because he was so sure Of her. He |
England YOU know p The farmer |
nodded That he had an interview with |
'Yes, yes, interrupted Mr.. Stisted ,sagely ;
I'VE heard all about it, though it was kept so
dark. 1t was Miss Helen, bless you, the lit
tie yellow haired Miss Churchill. Sixteen
years ago nearly, so no harm in speaking of
it now and all so changed since Well,
she saw him to say goodbye
'Yes. so this man told me, ana that they
parted, she saying that let her people say or
do what they might, she would await his re
turn in perfect trust aud patience
"A pity he did not give his love to the
other sister, remarked Mr.. Sisted, 'if all
stories are to be believed
Why"
Because she was in love with him always
and plain though she was, Mis- Jane was
good, true woman, and has never lifted her
head at another man since those sad days
rs that really true p
No cause to misdoubt it, sir any one in
the village will tell you the same story and
as said before, twas a pity seeing as every
thing has worked around right, that it was
no, on Miss Jane he had set his affections
tor being so plain, as you might say. mayhap
there would not have been such great OBJ
lection to his having her
The stranger made no reply, apparently
being lost in thought over Farmer -dste.'s
last words, and he continued:
lie would not have been such bad
match in those days, for her, at least for
he was a fine, gallant looking young clap,
with pleasant word for every one
you remember him {?
'Ies, well. never thought very i'll of
him myself a hAsty word, blow, these
com4 over quickly when the blood is young
80 you think am likrhim?' The speak
er drew himself up and stood lookins with
something almost like anxiety into Farmer
S.isted'5 red, comely face. when | knew
him. he added, We used to be often thought
to resemble one another
4 canpo, see it myself, sir, said Mr.. Stist-
ed, slowly but, then, sir, begging your
| pardon it /, not 50 e.Sy 10 draw comparisons
between the young and the DID,
The man addressed unluldcd his arms and
leaut once more against the stile, heaving Il
quick, impatient sigh as he did -. 1T is
unfortunate, is it not, Mr.. Sisted that hearts
do not alter As faces do
| Nay, sir, cam t see as you are right
there Hearts grow older along with the
faces they belong to, else husbands and wives
would not get along as well as they do. As
we grow older ourselves, we do not miss tie
youth in the face opposite ; leastways, |
don't in Magges, said the farmer, simply.
PERHAPS tha, is because y0u see the youth
still there you remember it, you see. But
il you had grown old far apart it would per-
haps have been different
Maybe" replied Mr.. Sisted doubtmly
appar, ntly little out Of his depths. But
come, it is time was back at the farm,
Perhaps you would like bit of breakfast
with US, sir? There'll be but little doing in
the village yet while, and my wife ill be
glad to see you
The stranger accepted the protiered hospi-
tallty, and he aud the farmer turned away
together.
Maggie proved quite as hospi'abe as her
husband had predicted, and when break fast
had been partaken of and Mr. Sisted had
gone out TO his work, the stranger found
himself lingering on still talking to sweet
placid faced Margaret Sisted.
lie had half a mind to ask her about this
village tragedy that was occupying his
mind in the morning; but better not, he de-
cidtd. And he lad waited so long that a
little longer could not make much differ
ence.
So he Just dwadle1 on about the farm aud
the pleasant farm garden long enough for the
days work to be well on hand, and then
be wished his hostess goodbye, and with
quick, impatient steps, took his way to the
village,
Once there he walked straight to the foot
path across the meadows that led up from
Bythorpe village to Bythorre Manor, but al
the entrance gate he paused and gazed with
tender eyes at the little house on the oppo'
site side of the road that exactly faced him
the little creeper-cOvered cottage, wher,
the Doctors widow lived.
He even made one half step toward it
but no. he murmured, she comes first, W,
will go there together But still he lin
gered, as if longing to pierce the mystery
OF those drawn blinds, and even as he thu
paused, there was the sound of horses feet
and there came in view down the marrow
street carriage drawn by two fine chest
nuts
Before it the village children fell hastily
back, and standing on one side, gazing viii
mingled awe and admiration. And assured
ly it was a sight to call forth admiration
for everything seemed so perfect; the car
risge itself, the pranciug horses, the fd
haired girl, 50 like the young, lovely moth
er, at whose side she sat, and the little gold
en'headed children opposite. There wa
surely no fault 10 be found anywhere.
Only to waylarer standing by the roa
side gazing at them, the sun seemed Of
sadden to be darkenod in heayeiI, the cart
to have lost the beauty of a summers morr
'Helenp he cried in tones of argus
wrung from breaking heart, but she di
not hear.
She saw him, Of course, for she was lool
ing at him, wondering, may be, who tn
: stranger was in familiar little Bythorpe. Br
that was all,
The dust from the carriage wheels mad
thick the air for moment, aud when
cleared away the vision had vanished.
'WAo is ii2' he questioned, when be cou
command his voice, turning to villsg
a standing by his side.
u 'lon ladyy Lady Edmeade She's goir