The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1882-04-18

thing to make 1t interesting, and Gran,
Burchard could not but acknowledge te
limself she was overdressed and unre-
med in appearance. He i~nstinctively
drank from acknowledging to his friend
hat this woman looked like the one he
lad loved. And though his eye caught
he name of "a. Ludwick'' on her tray
Hing bag, he shrank from renewing the
acquaintance, as he might have done by
word. He was contrasting this unin-
4 ercsting woman with the Simple girl in
ne s~weet-brier glen, when an old man
uttered and addressed her as Miss
, .udwick."
! Ralph Emery now started and looked
nto his friends face.
! "Ahi l remember the name, no ex-
t.aimed. els that the divinity of your
lrcams?"
81 fear it is" was the deprecating an
wer.
Where have you BEEN" asked the
tarmer.
"Been down to the city t. do some
rading," was the answer.
Her voice was coarse and harsh, and
Ralph Emery smiled, but it was no smil-
ng matter to Grant Burchard, this de-
ia bAiO llOl nC udu
carried all these years.
Getting ready, 1 s'pose?" queried
:he farmer.
Ready for whatP'' asked Miss Lud-
wick, with a blush and silly laugh.
you've concluded not to wait for the
chap that went away a few years ago, i
hear, and that young man coming to
your house every week don't mean any
thing, l s'pose," said the old man, with
an intelligent smile.
Il don't see it." was the quick reply,
as she tossed her head and simpered.
Grant Burchard groaned.
Success to. the young mar who
comes every week." said Ralph Emery,
.fervently, ''and YOU might as well say
Amen Grant, for l think that last bit
OF slang has cured you"
Verify Grant Burchard was in an I'M
enviable frame of mind. He was like one
who has reveled in a delicious dream of
beauty, and awakes to a stern and
wretched reality. He was thinking it
all over, as he lounged with his friend
upon the porch Of the country-hotel,
where he stopped for the night, when
his reverie was put to flight by the fra
GRANGE of sweet-brier-a perfume that
always came to him laden with sweetest
memories.
The parlor was in shadow, but they.
heard the floating sound of woman's
garments, and a sweet, low voice, chat
ting intelligently with an elderly gentle
man. The conversation was of suffi-
length to prove that this lady with
the starry blossoms of s~weet-brier twined
in her hair was q woman of original
thought and rare cultivation. The old
man asked for music, and the lady
swept the piano keys with skillful fing-
ers, and filed the room with a rare,
sweet melody. As the last note died
away, and the soft garments fioated out,
Grant Burchard exclaimed: .
my Amy should have had a voice
like that"
Ralph Emery thought of the harsh
and discordant tones in the rail-caT, and
with a smile that made his companion
vince, quoted the slang phrase: II don't
see it." !
The next day, Grant Burchard and
his friend stood at the gate of the Lud-
wick homestead. 1t was a fine old
place, and the garden was a pretty sight
with its rare and beautiful flowers ar
ranged with exquisite taste. Grant had
thought of his visit for years, when he
should come alone to claim Amy, but
now he was glad to bring his friend.
that no mention might be made Of
claims. A lady stood in the garden
path. She turned, and there were the
dark curls, brown eyes, and %ungraceful
manner Of the neutrality-suspicious. Of
the previous day. Grant Burchard step
ped forward.
"Good morning, Miss Ludwick." p,
1t was sadly cold and changed from
the fervent Amy he had always call
ed her in his thoughts.
Good morning, sirs," responded that
harsh voice, while a scared look came
into the brown eyes as she regarded the
istinguished-iooking strangers. Amin
ute more and she exclaimed enthusiast
why, Grant B~urchard, II it amt
you'll How glad l anti =
And she gave him a hearty-shake, and
poured forth a torrent of questions as
she led him into the house, and ven to
call the family. o..
The gentleman glanced about the par
lor. Everything was neat and beauti-
full, and the careful disposition of books
and furniture betokened a cultivated
taste. The piano was open, and two
pair of critical eyes noted with surprise
the Gticult piece Of music standing on
the rack.
The faint perfume Of sweet brier steal
ing in the open window, filled the o
with u delightful aroma; and Grant
Bu:chard smiled in spite of himself
this cosy place was so like his imaginary
horae for his ideal Amy.
A few minutes elapsed, and the smile
was gone. His dream died when the
curly haired maiden entered the room,
bringing old Mr.. Ludwick, who grasp
ed his hand with n cordial tenderness,
and greeted him in hearty tones of well
come.
"Well, Grant, do you think Amy
looks n~aturalP" inquired Mr.. Ludwick,
when this ceremony was over.
Miss Ludwick, your daughter, re-
tains some of her old looks" answered
Grant confusedly. "And yet l confess
she does seem changed"
'.For the better, Grant-ehP" said the
old man, gleefully. ''She has changed
for the better. Hasn't she GrantPn
-.Certainly," answered Grant, blush
ing fearfully, as he put up a mental Pc
tition to be forgiven for lying.
.tAnd she loves tho old man just as
WELL" continued Mr.. Ludwick, joyfully.
How lucky that you did not come be-
fore! She only reached home this morn
ing, by the early train. What made her
run away so soon, GrantP"
Your daughter is here" answered
the young man, pointing to the blushing
lace encircled by the dark curls.
You don't mean TO say, Grant, you
thought that was AmyP" And the old
man burst into an uproarious shout of