Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1881-12-22
A MINE OF RUBIEs.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.

A thin mantle of snow covered the
earth like a tattered garment, making
the landscape seem unfinished and un-
bearably dreafy.
Arnold Wait regarded the picture of
desolation from his car window, half
regretting that duty insisted upon his
going up into the country to spend
Christmas with his Aunt Ennis, who
was as disagreeable as duty herself,
while pleasure beckoned him over to
his faYorite Aunt Helen's house in the
city.
His Aunt Ennis had sent invitations
to her three nephews for Christmas
day, anu while two of the young men
had sent regrets, Arnold, who had
soft heart, could not say her nay, for
she was as lonely as if she had been the
most unloFable woman IN Christendom
probably more so, for she was so
poor no one ever thought of tolerating
her crossness, or of calling it eccen-
tricity.
Arnold was q puzzle to his friends
to those who knew him best most of al
Gentle and deferentIal to ladies always,
passiona5ely fond of children, and.
though scarcely over twenty-five, on the
high road to business success, no one
knew Of his ever appearing to be in
love, or of offering his hand in mar
riage.
A devoted brother to his one married
sister he proved, and his Aunt Helen
was as fond of him as of her own sons,
"Why don't you get married, Ar
nold?' was question that met him at
almost every turn.
81 am looking for wife" he would
answer, almost earnestly; "but must
find her in my own way"
He went out in society great deal,
but he seemed as fond of the wall
flowers as the bellies. He spent his
summer vacations in travelling; he sub
scribed to all the society papers; he
was acquainted with the brightest and
most fashionable young ladies far and;
near-5et he never appeared to fall in
love.
''Has Arnold ever had disappoint-
mentw questioned an old lady Of his
Aunt Helen, one day. nsa
s'Never, you may be sure, or he
would be soured in some way. Besides,
have known Arnold intimately every
year Of his life, except, perhaps, his
last in college, when I was in Europe.
But if he had fallen in love that year,
he would never have graduated as he
didp
So il was settled, and Arnold went
his way, wonder among men.
This afternoon, while his eyes looked
out upon the wintry scene, his heart
looked back over many years-or what
seemed many years to him. he saw IN
a corner of half-warmed, half-lighted
church, a young girl seated upon pile
of cedar-bougha, weaving wreaths of
cedar and hemlock and holly, her eyes
dropping half over her work, and half
because his own sought them so earn
estly.
Her cheeks were flushed, too, not
altogether from walking in the wind,
and her white hands, binding the
boughs together, moved unsteadily.
He fingered over this picture lov-
ingly /; never since had he seen face
SO sweet.
'To-morrow," she said for he went
on with the old memory, "papais COM
ing for me-after all, shall not see the
decorations here at Christmas time"
He remembered it all SO we'll, even to
the sorrowful lifting of the rare brown
eyes.
Tomorrow, Ada r he echoed, III re-
gretful surprise, IF you go tomorrow,
when shall We ever meet again r.
81 don't know" she said, bending
her head over her work still lower, until
he could see little but the crown Of soft