Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1882-08-17
"It is fortunate, is it not. Mr.. Stisted.

that hearts do not alter as quickly Il,
faces do. As we grow older ourselve,
we do not miss the youth in the face
opposite; leastways, | don't in Mag
gie's," said the farmer, simply,
"Pcrhaps that is because you see tn,
youth still there; you remember it, yor
see. But if you had grown old fal
apart it would perhaps have been diff
ferent.n
Maybe y replied Mr.. Sisted, doubt.
fully, apparently little out of hi,
depths. ''But come, i is time | wa,
back at the farm. Perhaps you would
like Il bit of breakfast with us, sir:
There'll be but little doing in the vii
lagc yet awhile, and my wife will be
glad to see you
The stranger accepted the protlcrcG
hospitality and he and the farmcrturn
away together.
Maggie proved quite as hospitablc n,
her husband had predicted, and when
breakfast had been partaken of and
Mr. Sisted had gone out to his work,
the stranger found himself lingering on
stllI, talking to sweet, placid faced
Margaret Stistcd. He had half Il mint
to ask her about this village tragedy
that was occupying his mind this morn.
ing; but "bctter not. " he decided, ''bct.
ter wait now.' He had waited SO lone
that II little longer could not makemucl
difference.
So he just dawdled on about the farm
and the pleasant farm garden long
enough for the days work TO be well in
hand, and then he wished his hostess
"good-by" and with quick, impatient
steps took his way to the village.
Once there he walked straight to the
footpath across the meadows that led
up from Bythorpc village to Bythorpc
Manor but at the entrance gate he
paused and gazed at the little house on
the opposite side of the road that cx-
actly faced him-thc little crccpcr COW
cred cottage where the doctors widow
lived, He even made one half-Stcp TO-
ward it; but "No, he murmurcd. "Shc
comes first. We will 90 there togcth-
inm to nirrrn tbc mTstor, " of tb"--o
drawn blinds, and even as he thus
feet ,nd thoro comn IN [ ,.;nu. Jon.n H.,
narrow street = corri,r" Jrovn % MI L,. t,"o ,,
very fine chcStnuts.
Before it the village children fell
l,"sIliS .", !,l utGN' anu, standing on one sue
G"n'" i "lI' lillns'Gu awe anu aulllra-
WI 'm an" assureuIS J. was Sl@ilt 10
] call loT'l admiration; Tor everything
SrtIliru 50 perfect lhe carriage h:rt;
IHc , PrIiicll$ hor'eS' thc iair-halrch
Elt'' ~ IKE .no young. loEely mother
W M,,pHr I, I"'t sue ~ 'he TWO niue
S"'u'''-lc''cu ~ ch'lurcn opposite;
: .,raJ was N"rc'f ilo i'''' l" Ut lo''il''
any "icrc'
Only, to wayfarcr standing by the
roadside gazing at them, the sun
seemed OF sudden to be darkcncd in
heaven, the earth to have lost the beat
ly OF summer morn.
'lieIcn' he cried, in tones OF an
guiSh wrung from breaking heart,
but She did not hear.
She saw HIM, OF course, for she was
looking at him, wondering, may be,
who this stranger was in familiar little
bythorpc. But That was ALL the dust
irom the carriage wheels made thick
the alr Tor moment, and when II
cleared away the vision had vanished.
"M no Is lt' he questioned when he
could command his voice turning to "
Nlllager standing by his side.
lyon Lady, Lady Elmcadc. She :
goln to Lunnon, She was a daughter
ol the old squire 5, &c added, land
married SIR Nilfrcd Edmcadc.
Has She been long married.
LET us see now. Twill be fourteen
years come August, for it was the same
day mind well, rs my youngest was
born Eh' but She has bonnie children,
he mnrmurcd as he turned away.
And Robert Sutton found himself
alone III the bright early. sun scarcely
four hours since he saw it rise for what
was to have been the happieSt day OF
his life, and already the end had come.
lie waited thus, reviewing this ending
to his romance, for a few seconds,
thinking OF the Sunny-haircd, broken
hearted girl who had clung to him
these long, long years ago, the tears
streaming down his checks.
81 believe in you, Robert, Whatever