Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1882-01-26
she was soon busy in the precariouS
yantura of writing 81 hook

she was soon Dusy III Jne prechTlous
venture of writing book.
Another summer, and it came out and
was q brilliant success. Another, and q
second followed; and Janet Stuart woke
up one morning and found herself fa-
nous. Rich, too, or comparatively SO,
and able to crafty the desire Of her
heart and go abroad to fair, foreign
lands, with an admiring party of literary
friends. OEce-ah! how loug ago it
seemed now--she had thought 10 wan
der through these stored nations rs
Ernests happy wife.
So the world went round, and the
years went by, and ten of those years
had been counted off the great rosary,
when Janet Stuart came back TO her
native land. Wealth and fame had
crowned her; but she came back Janet
saddened and lonely woman.
There were changes before her. Her
uncle was dead; his young wife all his
vast wealth had inherited; the fine old
homestead was for sale, aud Ernest was
where? No one knew; he had gone TO
Australia, having quar eled with his
new aunt, and CONSEQUENTLY With his
old uncle; that was all Janet could
learn.
Janet Stuart went back TO the village
of her girlhood. purchaser of the fine
old homestead where her happiest years
had been spent, and settled down among
the familiar sights and sounds to con-
tented old maidenhood. There were
friends there still glad and proud to
welcome her-and she could do good;
and with her "gray goose quill' and her
piano and her pets she was happy.
She stood in the May twilight under
the sycamore by the gate, one radiant
evening, six months after her coming.
tying up early roses, and singing softly,
when a man came slowly up the dusty
road and looked at the pretty picture.
A man who was bronzed, haggard,
weather beaten, and but poorly clad,
with his cap pulled far over his eyes
handsome blue eyes still. He paused
at the gate, weary and pale.
"Janetm
She turned round, with shrill, low
cry, dropped the rose vine, and caught
both of his hands her face more radiant
than the sunset sky.
Ernest Oh, Ernestl Ernestm
And you are really glad to see me,
Janet?"
She opened the gate, her happy eyes
shining luminously, and drew him
in
"Did you know was here!" she
asked.
Yes; why else should 1 have GOMEZ
But did not mean to intrude. only
wanted to look upon your face once
more before went away again"
event awayl Where?"
Back 10 Australia. am poor, and
can do nothing here; there is still an
opening there. And before / 60, dear
est, bravest Janet, tell me that you for
give me for the past.
His voice broke down; the old love,
stronger than ever, looked at her inn
plcringly, hopelessly out of his eyes.
She stood before him, her hands lightly
on his shoulders, her dear face smiling
up at him so tender, so true.
"You must not go; you must not
leave mel Dear Ernest, l don't forgive
i only love you'll"
Later, when the moon was at its
highest, and the last lights were dying
out of the homestead windows, Ernest
Etheridge walked up the peaceful moon
Int road to his hotel. But with, oh!
such an infinitely happy face, and sing
ing as he went along:
"Say am old, and gray, and sad:
Say that health and strength have
missed me:
Say I'm poor, but also add
Jennie kissed mel"