Connecticut western news., 1881-12-07
LITTLE SILVER LOCKETs.
STORY FOR CHRISTMAS, BY LOUISE CHANDLER MoULToN.

dearly as loved Grace Ellsworth :; and that may have been the reason why the wound in my heart, when it came, was so sore and hard to heal. Since have been grown woman, and fallen into the way of really thinking about things, it has often seemed to me that in some natures jealousy is the black. shadow of love; and you know how exaggerated and distorted our shadows always look.
 remember the first time I ever saw Grace. It was when I was only four years old. That is a long way back to remember; but I have heard people tell of really distinct memories extend ing back still farther than that. My first memory was Grace.
 have been told since that my par ents had just moved into the town which was Grace's home. Our mothers had been friends long before, and so one day was taken to see Grace. Do such little creatures as I was then, think, wonder?
 I hardly know but there is picture before my eyes, as distinct as any have ever seen on canvas, of little girl in white frock, with a red ribbon round her waist, with big black eyes, and yellow hair hanging about her pink cheeks.
 She had been told by her mother = but this is one of the things I have learned since-that I would be little sister for her and she came toward me, her small hands outstretched in wei. come, without the least childish shy ness, and said
 "How 'oo do, Oahwyp I'm glad 'oo come"
 believe had the pleasing habit, al that epoch, of saluting strangers with prolonged vail of doubt and dismay
 but this beautiful and friendly visior
 put to flight the incipient howl, and ] submitted to be led away by her in tri
 umph. think must have been in
 troduced to large family of dolls an6
 8 storehouse of play things, but re-
 member nothing of them; remember
 only Grace.
 From that day we were almost daily
 together. It was the easiest way O
 amusing us; for I was an only child
 and so, to all intents of companionship
 was Grace, though she had half sister
 some ten years older than herself. This
 half-sister, Mary, was our benignan
 special providence, and loved her al | r,osf oe xuoll oo Grooo di.3
 We grew up together, Grace and I
 went to the same school, studied tht
 same books, dreamed the same dreams
 We used to trace out on our maps the
 routes by which we would like to travel
 have been over some of them since
 but not with Grace. We used to gc
 oftenest in our fancy to Rome. We
 were full of interest in Roman history
 and we longed to stand among the
 stately ruins of that old-time glory.
 II have been there when the light was
 soft upon the Alban hills, and the sur low, and I thought I heard voice-he, voice-say, gently, "Here we are, a last;" but knew it must be the winG l among the stone p1n0s.
 When l took my last draught from the fountain of Trevi, under the spring
 moonlight, I heard the voice again, ol seemed to hear it; but this time it must have been the murmur of the fountain itself, for I know not what tongue they speak in the land where Grace is now When we were in our fourteenth yea have told you that we were of tho same age, Grace and I Pa cousin cam.
 to spend the summer and autumn witt her. This cousin was nice enougl girl, and really, the most prejudicet mind could hardly blame her for having
 been sent to stay at her Aunt Ellsworth while her parents made journey across the Atlantic. - -~.s ~--+- < -.- But jealousy and justice are not o the same family, though they begil with the same letter; and was jealous of Edith Stanhope from the first.
 She was 8 city girl, with pretty little
 ways of her own, and various manners 1 and customs to which Grace and I wer, , strangers. Her toilets were perfection but I honestly think she thought n, more of them than we did of our browl
 Holland frocks. She would have beel
 called handsomer than either of us, have no doubt; and yet to me her pinl and white face had no charm compar able to that of Grace's rather pale face with the great dark eyes, full of trutl 1 and tenderness. %