The Arkansaw traveler., 1883-10-06
BENkAra THE ELMs.
IExchange.l

HuEh oD0 ! If oGDo0th the e1mS at eventide We v9e lovers, and the nor row uns to eeporaae - fbe . loag time, how foaG - knew nos. ca the porch our eldess sna h p1aasnne conversation. and we canyAt n unasrtone of sadness in sheir voiess. They were Hugh's par enss, my uncse and aunt, who had given me parental love and care since an orphan babe. [ had been sen, to them from my mothers death bed, almost six teen years before.
 Presently my aunt. the sister of my father, who was 10 take me away to the city tomorrow. joined them. A proud looking, splendidly dressed woman, bear ing the prestige and remnant of great beauty. she came and sat down beside my Aunt Mcleod. completely eclipsing, with her spreading, lus,rous Aounces, her handsome and costly laces, and the gleam of rich jewel or two, the sober plainness of that best of women.
 Aunt Shaw had never taken the least thought of me before. She was net fond of children. she said, and hearing that the McLeods had taken me home. on my mothers decease, she had known that was sufficiently we'll cared for. Bu, now she felt 1t her duty to come forward and give me some advantages such as could not receive among these unfashionable people. must have year or two at fashionable school or under good hn- ishing governess and with masters. Then, my manners being formed and sufficient accomplishments gained, she would introduce me into society, where l would speedily secure desirable match.
 Hugh, whose wife had promised 10 be. was disconsola:e a, our separation Blu, l; would no; be for long. said, and l would write and explain all. And so drove away beside my aunt, with ;he beauty of midsummer morn- ing moekins ,he impatient grief of my spirit.
 Twenty years had passed How changed were all the aspects of my world :; went a ,hough,less child of ie. came back woman of ;, for whom life had no longer hopes or any illusions. came back poor, widowed. childless. hopeless ana friendless bu, for Hugh, glad to ae- eep, the pos, of kousekeeper in his bach elor establishment. since l must earn my livelihood somewhere.
 Hugh. too, was changed into the tall. broad, burly man of Io, with grizzlcd locks, grave eyes and unsmiling mouth. Uncle and Aunt Mcleod were dead. Only the gray old gables remained the same, perhaps a little mossier than Of old: even the elms had grown to more gigantic size, and quite hid the bench where certain never-forgotten words had been whispered. Hugh, a gentleman ever. in holden gray or broadcloth. treated me with none of the old familiar i,y of our youthful days. He had his own avocations. mine, and we went on our separate ways in unsympathizing silence. observing only those outward forms of civili;y which the veriest strangers adopt,
 \ few words will suffice for a.l the his tory of those years of absence.
 Aunt Shaw's more powerful will had ben, me to her purpose from the first. and when, in the second year of my resi- dence with her, she proposed going abroad, acquiesced, and even submitted without murmur when she contrived to prevent my farewell visit to the Elms Hugh had been prevented coming to me by the illness of his parents, and after sailed was shu, of from all intercourse with him.
 After year or two Aunt Shaw left me in Europe. She had married me to a man whom detes,ed. having hrst in- veigled me into giving him what, accord ing 10 the code of fetiquette in that country where we then lived, was encouragement that did not permit me to recede. She seff sv,n N rr,sS hat k~ bend no misery that a title and a palace could not heal. She died soon after. leaving me by her will all her wealth :: but the heirs sf her husband contested the instrument, and my husband. who became defendant in the suit that fol- lowed. being an alien and absent. they gained their cause. My husband had iitle but no wealth, and we lived a wresched life when the hope was wrenched from us of succeeding to Aunt Shaw's estate. Children were born 10 me and died. and last the man to whom false VOWS bound me died, too, and was lief, alone.
 Then came home to mee; coldness and oontumely, and to gladly accep, the home Hugh offered me.
 l had been nearly SIX months al the Films when the midsummer brought my 36th birthday. No word of this an- niversary had passed my lips Not for worlds would l have reminded Hugh of that sad time of temptation when l had forfeited my VOWS But his memory was nos less tenacious than my own The morning of my birthday saw the gif lef me by his dead mother laid beside my plate al breakfast, accompanied by his own-,he one costly shawl of rare lace, the other a clasp of pearls had few words wherevi,h 10 thank my cousin, and he repeaed my gratitude almost roughly, reminding me tha, his coffee was growing cold Bu, though, i, but fancy that he glanced al me more kindly than his wont.
 l had not known till that day how dearly the memory of my early love had been cherished. l loved him still, and the conviction flashed upon me that l must leave the Films lest my secret be