The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1882-04-29

harder after / return, to make up this
sum again. But see Depdene, now
that it is fairly in my mind, 1 must!
And now will take one more look at
the dear old farm before it Is in the
hands of strangers, and so altered that
L shall not know it."
The next day saw her on her way.
The two years of her absence had
been years of change to the little
country village.
A railway wished across the. hill
road from Torrington. Once she would
have made the journey in yellow
STAGE drawn by four horses, with
John Colney the crossest and most dis
agreeable of earthly stage drivers, on
the box.
The village, too, was smartened and
freshened up-new houses, new fences,
a new iron fence around the small
oval park that graced the centre of the
town; new names above the gilded
fronts of the shops; a new set of gig
Cling misses, on their way to the new
brown stone Academy, which stood
where she had once thought it an
honor to attend the district school, in
plain one story structure of faded
brick.
No doubt all these alterations were
for the better but they made her heart
ache with a sense of loss unspeakable.
And she turned into the shaded lane
that led only to the Blessing Farm.
dreading to see the old home desecra-
ted by the strangers hand.
No; there it stood, as she had always
known 1.-THE very picture of home
comfort, the centre of all those modest
luxuries that well to-do farmer of all
other men most easily commands.
But although the dear old house was
unchanged, its inmates were new and
strange to her. A stout, middle-aged
man, in a white summer suit, with
broad brimmed hat and cigar, sat on
the steps of the piazza, reading news
paper. A fashionably dressed lady,
some years his junior, swung in a
hammock upon the lawn, lost in q
novel.
Several children, in ,road- brimmed
hats and brown Holland blouses, were
making the lives of two nurses
burden to them further down the
lawn, among the elm trees, where
swing had hung from time imm
mortal.
"City" was stamped on every
and figure that she saw.
Had Maurice sold bis place to
retired merchant, who would overo.
nament and disfigure it in the mo
ern villa style?
''If one could live their lives ovel
after they grow older and are taught
Dy experience what is best for them ~
thought Hester in her sadness, once
more.
She would have gone up to the house
and asked leave to rest and look around
if it had remained in the care of old
Farmer Williams and his wife. the
tenants of the upper farm.
But she could not face those prosper
GUS, happy ''city people" who would
LOOK at her with their coldly curious
eyes and wonder, almost audibly
what she could want" even if they
did not absolutely mistake her for q
tramp"
II wish I could have gone through
me strawberry pasture once more,
she thought, as she turned back to
ward the railway station, tired, hungry
and unrefreshed.
At the foot of the lane gentleman
in summer suit of silver. gray stood
leaning against the bars, with his
straw hat drawn down over his eyes so
far that he failed to see the str .nger's
silent approach.
"Will you let me pass, il you
please?" said Hester, at last, after
waiting some moments.
He wheeled round, as if she had
struck him, and stared doubdngly in
her face.
She uttered great cry.
Maurice Maurice! [ heard that
you had sold the farm and gone t.
Colorado"
chester! Can this be you ?" he an
| swered.
His eyes seemed to devour her.
| Words rose to his lips and were forced
back again. At last he asked:
sis your husband here with you,
Hester ?"
my husbandP
"Why, yes! l heard that you were
married very soon after you went to
the city!'
"You heard wrong, Maurice. 1 have
| not been married. / have never eve
thought of such a thing"
"But why did you go, then, Hester ?
Why did you leave Depdene? Why