The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1882-02-17

Grape veil over her face. Handing q
baggage-check to one of the drivers she
passed into the waiting-room. Dick felt
strongly impeled to follow her, but
Gliding himself for his curiosity, turned
on his heel and walked away.
Across the track was footpath, lead
ing to short cut through the fields and
woods, to the farm. But Dick had a
business errand at one of the houses near
by, and he followed the main road.
When he left the farmers house he
turned aside from the highway, and
crossing field, reached the bypath to
the farm. How the old memories came
surging into his mind! How often had
Milly and he walked under those trees.
Yonder, was the little brook, with the
broad stepping stones, which they had
crossed a hundred times. He strobe
forward, rapidly, and stood by its brink.
In the middle of the stream, on a large
flat stone, stood the lady whom he had
seen at the station. The recent heavy
rains had washed away some of the
stones, and wide space of rushing water
rolled between her and the bank.
1t was but the work of a moment to
roll a stone into the stream, and to assist
her to spring to the other bank. As she
threw back her veil to thank him Dick
raised his eyes and saw-Milly herself.
'lcame but yesterday" she explained,
after an awkward silence. "Miss B
died suddenly, and her mother and left
at once for home. I did not telegraph,
because I wanted to surprise them at the
farm. Are they well?'
''You have not heard, then?' returned
Dick, gently, 1T is as you feared. Uncle
Seth's eyes have given out"
20, why did they keep it from me?'
she cried. 81 would have come at once.
1t is mercy that 1 am able to take care
of him."
They walked along, slowly, talking Of
uncle Seth and his affection,
at seems but yesterday that left"
murmured Milly. THANK God, if
friends prove tickle there are some things
that do not change. This path, this
brook, seem the very same that l left,
years ago, and these trees are not al
tered; even the little flowers are in the
old places. How is-Kate?''
She spoke hesitatingly now.
"Kate?' he repeated. Kate? do not
know"
'tDo not know?''
''She left here four years ago-married
gay young clerk, and went out West
to live"
"I-Ithought she was married to you,"
gasped Milly. '1n every letter she spoke
OF seeing you, being with you, and the
others wrote in the same way. She told
me she was going to be married; and l
supposed, of course, it was to you"
For the first time Dick smiled. II
did see a great deal of her; it was the
only way could hear from you," he said.
They had reached the short lane by this
time, that led to the farm house.
Zone word, Milly, said Dick. II have
a right to know. Tell me what I have
ever done that you should answer none
OF my letters, that you should leave with
out one word of farewell?''
cit is the very question have been
longing to put to you. left a long, long
letter for you, with Kate. I wrote again
and again. sent messages and gifts by
her, until hope died in my heart. And
all these long, weary years, poor, little,
homesick, far-away Milly has been wait
ing and praying for one word of encour-
agement from her old friends it posi-
BILE that Kate
II see it all now," replied Dick. "She
has very near made total wreck of two
The sound of voice, singing an old,
familiar hymn, came through the open
door of the farm house. Milly lifted her
finger to Dick, and hurried through the
hall into the kitchen.
Uncle Seth, with bandage over his
eyes, sat in an armchair, with his niece
on low stool at his feet. As the young
woman arose, in surprise, Milly motioned
for her to be silent.
"Why do you stop" queried the old
man, impatiently. "That was one of
Milly's favorite hymns. But you don't
sing it as she did. Go on. Sophia"
The girl obeyed. But after the first
line, clear, rich voice joined in the re-
frain. The old man started to his feet.
"Milly,'' he cried, cropping with out
arms. eft is-it must be-
Milly, come back again"
Milly threw her arms around his neck
and answered, brokenly, cit is Milly,
come to be eyes for you in your blind
ness-to stay with you, always-to share
her good fortune with you-to leave you
never, never more"
A smile lighted the meek, patient
face.
81 am content, now. It is Milly come
back to me and to Richard" he con-
tinued, hearing Dicks voice.
Dick could not speak; but his earnest
eyes put the question that his tongue re-
fused to utter.
Milly's lips parted in happy laugh,
IS she stroked the old mans silver
locks.
cit is Milly come back to you-to you
and to Richard" she added, gently,
placing her hand in the young mans
eager grasp.-Peterson's Magazine.
How 1t Feels to be Hanged.
Yesterday several gentlemen were
Oh rxyhnv,