Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1881-08-04

Lucy drew back. She thought this was
an odd way 10 talk. and that II was not
very nice TO be shut up in q railway
carriage fofmore than hundred miles
with person who talked in an odd way.
mo, lady" said he, "donot think Amiss
Of what say. / will explain. When l
was young saw great deal of-I mean
was very intimate with-a young lady
of your age, and you are much more IKE
her than anyone have met during my
whole long life"
Lucy was interested, much interested,
but had the uncomfortable feeling that it
was wrong TO be so-that this old gentle
man was "very strange and rude, and
talked in a way that no one who was not
an old, old friend, or relation ought to
talk, and that if Aunt Esther did but
know;" but here she was interrupted.
"You are wrong again." said he. 81
speak in way you perhaps think strange
but it is only because l talk frankly and
naturally. do not mean to shock or an
noy YOU"
"Oh, no." began Lucy.
would you like to see the Spectdtorr
asked the stranger and Lucy felt herself
put in her place as good little girl who
was not quite grown up enough to be en-
titled to talk for any length of time to
gentlemen, especially to very old ones,
but who was not on that account to be
cut off from all the tender charities of
life. So she took her Spectator meekly,
and turned its pages one by one, and tried
to make herself think she liked the polit-
ical articles, and was interested in the
middles, and did not dislike the reviews;
but being at that time not very fond Of
reading, she had but poor success. After
about an hour, and not till then, she again
looked up, and again saw the old gentle
mans eyes scanning her face with an ex-
preston of intense but most melancholy
pleasure. II beg your pardon" said he,
II do, indeed, but cannot help it; you
really are so like her."
"Like whoml" said Lucy, rather impa-
tiently.
"Like the young lady we were speak
ing of just now," said he, as if that were
quite enough.
"But whowas she Z" inquired Lucy with
increased, but on the whole well-concealed
impatiencr
II was engaged to her." he replied.
Lucy was silent. She did not like to
say, "Then why in the name of all that is
sensible did yOu not marry her and leave
me in peace?" but that was what she
thought. He was quite silent, and as this
silence lasted, she looked interrogatively
into his face (he was now opposite). "She
died." he said, and Lucy felt miserable.
Il do so beg your pardon" she stam-
mered.
"No, no; it is altogether my fault, or
would be if there were any fault. 1t does
not hurt me to talk about her. I like it.
1t does me good-now, l mean. Twenty
years ago l did not much like to speak
of her; forty years ago could not have
done it for the world; but can talk well
enough now. Why, consider, it won't be
long before see her."
Lucy wondered if he were mad She
was afraid he was-almost sure that he
was
"No, lady," said he, 81 am not mad
don't start, OF he vexed. 1t is because
you.are so like her--so truly like her, that
1 know what you are thinking -other peo-
pie may think what they like, or do what
i they like. it makes no difference to me.
know and care nothing about it; but old
as l am. l know your thoughts-you are
of her sort"
81 do so wish were not" was Lucy's
first thought, for he oppressed her; then
she was ashamed of herself. at must
have been q great grief" said she, and
then she despised herself for her COM
monplace and inadequate sympathy.
"A grief! Yes of course it was u grief,
but it happened fifty years ago"
"Fifty years ago! Lucy sighed. Fifty
years hence where would she be2 Now
she was whirling away to pay pleasant
visit, and her life had known no sorrow
When she looked backwards her thoughts
dwelt on happy, tranquil days, unclouded
by any shadow-when she looked forward
there was a prospect of happiness with
out end, for she was going to her sisters
at Hazlewood, near Litchfeld. and wher
there she would have two balls, and some
picnics and archery meetings, and best Of
all. she would often see Robert Merivale
and she sometimes ventured to think that
Robert Merivale cared very much to sec
her. While enjoying these anticipations
she remembered the old gentleman oppo.
site and his lost love Of fifty years ago.and
that there was much pain and misery ii
this world of ours-what if some of il
came to her? She felt very sorry for hin
and said kindly, "Will You tell me some.
thing about her?" Whereupon he told
her in perfectly simple words the story Of
his love and loss.
AS he spoke she liked him more and
more, and before he had finished she
found herself wishing she was his daugh,
ter, or anyone who mi ght have the pl'ivi
lege of comforting him. She was very 81
lent. very quiet. but two OF three big
tears rolled down her face. He made NJ
apparent demand on her sympathy; he
told his story quietly, but he knew thai
she felt for him. "So,' said he, "all thai
was left for me to do, was to go patiently
through life, trying to make some othe,
lives happier than mine had been.
spend most of my time in Cumberland
like being there" Then he described his
home there, until Lucy felt as if she haG
never seen such scenery before; and then
and by this time they were quite gooG
friends, he said, "Now tell me something
about YOURSELF