The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1881-12-10
ut looks Ikea child's,' [ ventured to

And he answered in the same quiet way
II never heard of her DEATH
''ls she married?' 1 asked, bluntly
lpresume so; | don't know" he answer
ed, trife less calmly.
'The ribbon is faded; [ will bring you
fresh piece, and put this in the rag bag |
suggested
But he shook his head decidedly. "A
new piece would not be the same" he an
swered, gravely.
This is a slight foundation on which to
rear romance, but | have always believed
there is memory of the past connected
with the faded ribbon and sunny hair. Hal,
with all his bravery, is shy man. He
would be like Miles Standish, whom he is
quoting in love and in war don't believe
he ever heard that terrible No from the
lips of the woman who had sunny hair
and pale ribbons, but can fancy him losing
his chance, and letting some other man win
her. You see, he would have only himself
to blame, and would 90 on remembering
the past dream with dreary kind of pleas
ure. Still, L always expect to see him mar
ried. Home and wife are the Just deserts
of men like Hal"
The man of whom this hceerful prophecy
was made was on his way to an uptown
residence, in an enviable frame of mind
Its absurd of Joshua wife to send me
on this errand," he was thinking Il am
sure to blunder Let me see-paper, paint,
walls, closets and sewer gas were the items
of special Importance
What pleasant looking house, he
thought, as he ascended the steps of the
residence designated in his brother tele-
gram. In the hall he carefully noted the
wall from floor to ceiling, looked closely at
the paint, and made an inventory of closets
at the back of the hall. Then he was ad
mitted into the parlor, and saw at a glance
that the arrangement was such as Mrs
Maclane desired \ faint perfume of vio-
lets was a pleasant odor to inhale when he
feared to encounter sewer gas. He glanced
at the wall, and then his eyes fell on lady
who advanced from the rear room, and eX
claimed, MIR Maclaner'
My old friend Reby!'' he responded, as
he took her hand This is an unexpected
pleasure"
There was genuine pleasure on both
sides, if sparkling eyes and glowing cheeks
were signs of pleasure; then each surveyed
the other, with glances half questioning and
half apprehensive, as they exchanged ordi
nary remarks and Harry Maclane explained
his errand.
My sister occupies the house, and will
show it to you presently" said the lady
do you want it furnished as you find it?''
Harry Maclane looked at the fair woman
sunny hair waving over her forehead
clear blue eyes looking searchingly into his
at one moment, and glancing shyly away
the next, lips moving nervously as if she
were mastering some emOtiOn-and he re-
piled, emphatically: just as it is
There is a pleasant view from the back
windows said the lady leading the way
to the rear room.
Very pleasant = replied Henry Maclane,
but he had only given q mce outside, and
was gazing down on the Iair-haired woman,
standing little lower than himself. Then
he fell to asking questions about her family
and mutual friends; and all the time he had
the air of a lawyer who asks direct ques
tons hoping to elicit some unknown facts
.Mamma!' called a childish voice in the
hall
The fair lady stepped to the door, and
said, gently: Go to the nursey, Hal"
Henry Macclane started at the sound OF
the name he always bore in his own home.
Had it been given to the child for
sweet remembrance sake? The thought
that this remembrance must count for
naught. if there were husband and children,
had in it the sadness of lit might have
BEEN
The years must have brought many
changes to you, said Henry Maclane with
a view of gaining some personal knowledge.
Yes, answered the lady, with medita-
tive look on herface, there are few remind
ers even of the old days left | have had
my share of joy and sorrow.
Henry Maclane noted, what he had not
seen before, that there was mingling Of
Grape in the lady's black dress ''Perhaps
she is a widow, was his thought.
MY mothers death last year was the
greatest aff1ictiOn | have ever had, . she said,
sadly.
Not a widowI!' was Henry Maclane's
mental comment ''The loss of her hus-
band would have been greater affliction
to this woman than the loss of her mother
There was pause, and Henry Maclane
said: You must know Mrs. McClane.
She will give any friend Of mine warm
welcome
Certainly" replied the lady, 1T will
be a pleasure to know her. All! here is my
sister, Mrs Ellis. Sue, don't you remem-
Der Mr. Maclane?'
s.Remember him? What, Hal, our most
devoted attendant and dearest friend? Up
on my word, | hadn't any dearer friend in
those days" exclaimed the sister, in volu-
BILE way he remembered well. Glow glad
am to see you! The servant told me
gentleman was waiting to be shown the
house l little dreamed Of finding an
old friend in the house-hunter. Are you
Judge of houses?" she asked, in practical
way.
II fear not; but Mrs. Maclane was una
BILE to come, as one of the children was i'll,
repned Henry Maclane
How many children are there ?" asked
Mrs Ellis.
Five" answered Henry Maclane.
Mrs. Ellis proceeded Immediately to the
business in hand. II will show you the
upper stories if you like to look"
Mrs. Ellis enumerated the good points OF
their use with the volubility ofa house agent,
and Henry Maclane appeared to follow, but
his thoughts were with the fair woman in
the parlor below.
ut is strange We never met until to-
day." he said, somewhat irrelevantly, as
Mrs. Ellis last remark was about commu-
nicating rooms.
You see, we went to Europe when you
went for soldier replied Mrs. Ellis. II
was there until the war was over. Reby