Sacramento daily record-union., 1882-05-06

to travel along has plenty of time, in such
q lapse, to run through valleys of humilia-
ton, and up hills of difficulty the sun has
plenty of time to shine upon him ; and the
singing, biting rain, driven against him by
the bitter wind OF aSversity, to blind him
and make him stagger as he goes. Flowers
of life are culled, thorns pierce, in such a
breadth of years. The character, thoughts
and feelings are so changed, SO carved by
the chisel Of time, that the man of fve-and
forty would scarce recognize himself in the
lad of twenty who used to look at him from
his mirror every morning. and whistle for
very lightheartedness as he brushed the
thick locks which are now so sparse and
streaked with silver lines.
All these varieties Of experience, all these
changes had come upon Ruthven Dyott,
since that summers night, five-and. twenty
long years ago, when We saw him stand
bare headed in the mellow light to watch
woman moving swiftly through the meadow
grass, which russled under the touch of her
trailing robe as she passed.
Passed-where
Out of his ken-out of his life-though
he knew it not.
For two days later be received Millicent's
promised letter-the letter for which his
very soul within him had seemed to wait
and when the thing 80 longed for came, its
kindly friendliness and calm sisterly inter
est half maddened him.
Quite maddened him, he came to think
in time to come, as he looked back upon
the hasty, impulsive actions that followed.
No answer was sent to Milly, and Ruthven
Dyott hurried up north to spend q month
or six weeks with his own relatives with
out attempting to visit the red house by
the river-determined, in fact, to try and
Danish from his memory the very existence
of its inmates.
"Send me one line to say that you for.
give me for any pain l may have caused
you and believe me, dear Ruthven, the
time will come when you will leok back
upon all this as a passing fancy that it was
well indeed should pass, and leave your
young life still free."
Thus had run the fateful letter. But
the lone line" was never sent.
have loved statue, not woman. l
have been fool, but now / am wise. l
have been blind, but now l see."
Thus ran Ruthven's thoughts during
that long journey north. But with time
and the near approach of his departure
from England came softer feelings.
Yes, he would go and say farewell to the
woman who had been to him SO good and
true friend he would once more watch
the river stealing along beneath the alder
trees once more wander in the garden
where all old. fashioned flowers grew and
aourished exceedingly.
Autumn's hand had changed the aspect
of the garden and river since last he had
seen them. The leaves of the Virginian
creeper, red, and gold, and russell. brown,
were strewn upon the grass, carpet
daintily tinted the roses were all dead
the alder trees had shed their best leaves.
Strangest change of all, not window
was uncurtained, and when Ruthven rang
at the porch door, the first sound that
greeted him was the grating Of locks and
bolts.
"Are Sir Godfrey and Miss Warner
from home q he asked of q withered old
crone who blinked at him from under
shaggy, white -tufted brows, and evidently
bore him bitter grudge for having dis
turbed her from her lair, wherever that
"Sir Ge'ffrey's dead and buried I don't
know where the lady's gone"
That was all.
Then came the grating of keys and bolts
once more, and Ruthven was left out there
in the dark autumn day, with the fallen
leaves under his feet, and dead and dying
blossoms all around him. So that kindly
genial old man was gone Death must
have come suddenly, too and Milly. how
she must have suffered To hurry home,
to write, not the one line" she had asked
for, but many lines, urgent, sympathetic,
tender, was Ruthven's next proceeding.
He knew of no address whittier he might
send, except the old home now 30 desolate.
He could but trust to the faint hope that
"To be forwarded, strongly underlined,
might appeal to any conscience the crone
with the bushy brows possessed he could
but wait and watch for some word of greet
ing during the few days that remained to
him before he must start on his long jour-
ney.
He watched and waited in vain. The
silence remained unbroken, and he bore
that silence with him to the new land and
new life in which his lot now lay-a burden
heavy to be borne.
Yet time did its inevitable work of heal
ing. New scenes, new stirring aspects of
work and life, drifted thought into new
channels. Ruthven never forgot Milicent
Warner, NOR yet the red house by the river
and the pleasant hours passed in the room
with the wide low window that looked
across the grass and flowers to where the
alder branches bent to kiss the ripples as
they passed. He did not forget but the
picture grew DINNER, and in time-what
changes may not be wrought by that
silent, resistless influence men call time =
Ruthven Dyott, recalling the words of
Milly's letter, This is but fancy that
will pass, looked wise, and owned TO his
own heart that those words were true.
They had seemed cruel in day that was
past but then he saw "as in glass
darkly )" now he stood face to face with the
certainty that Millicent had been cruel
only to be kind.
1t was no rare thing" he thought to
himself, smiling at the folly OF day that
was dead, " for the object of lads first
love to be woman some years his elder"
The romance died away and no harm was
done. A good and pure influence, this
woman whose experience OF life had chas.
tened and refined her character, had kept
his life free from evil there was much
reverence mingled with the tenderness that
he in his youthful Ignorance had taken for
passion.
Yes the story was neither rare nor new;
and now, two years after that parting in
the cleaning by the river, the real romance
of passionate love came to Ruthven
Dyott.
Millicent had swayed him, now he
learned the sweetness of swaying another.
Millicent had been his guide, now was he
the guide of one who found all her sunshine
in his smile.
Millicent's dark grave eyes had been
wont to watch him with helpful interest,
but not always approvingly. Alice, his
girlish, blue. eyed wife, would not know
how to begin to .chide him, much less to
go on.
She studied his comfort as the one thing
worth striving for counted herself blessed
among women in that he had chosen her
from all the world to be forever by his
side read the books he loved, so that she
might be able to speak of them with him !;
made, in word perfect wife. But by
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