Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1883-06-14

in each Others company passed before
his mind eye like some beautiful piano.
rama. He wondered if, indeed, he was
the hero of those dreams. if he had ever
been so happy. The first parting. the
first estrangement. wrung his heart
anew, as if they had happened only
Yesterday. What foolish thing their
little quarrel looked like to-day. seen by
the LIGHT of wears and acknowledgement
n trife, but with such large results
Yet he had been the first to make an
overture toward reconciliation. thank
God, If she accepted his overture she
was to write and say so: but no word
had come to him in reply. What days
and hours of suspense lifted their shad-
ows before him; how the whole world
had seemed bleak and Improbable
without her. And in season of
weakness, when his wounded
heart could bear no more. he had
accepted the sympathy and comfort
nearest at hand. and had finally
married Lefty Carew. because she loved
him, only to wake up one day to find
that he owed all his unlIappinesS to her
Miss Hildreth had, indeed, answered
him, had given Lefty the letter to mail
they had been intimate friends in
those DAYS. intrusted with each other $
| heart beats and Lefty had detained
the missive that would have healed the
breach. How did he know this9 Years
after it tumbled out of drawer of old
| letters, and confronted him with its IA
miliar address. Miss Carew thought
| she had secured herself for all time by
burning Pruc's letter, but she had
tossed the wrong envelope into the
crate. Austin Miller had lived his sor-
! row over again after this discovery: he
| had walked with il and wrestled with it
without getting nearer happiness. and
| had long AGO made up his mind to do
without it, But he had thought it due
to Prudence Iildreth to send her word
that by an accident her letter had come
to hand five years too late; he said moth
ing of Letty's share in the matter, but
Prudence understood all. These memo
ries had been revived by PrueS hasty
note asking him to forgive the children
for breaking up the pea-hen's nest.
Her children. too! He was at the point
of carrying the note to his lips, when
his eye fell upon his sermon. and he
threw it into the waste basket. He
looked at the clock he had been idle
| two whole hours. ''Of what was he
thinking?" he asked himself; "where
was he drifting? an anointed priest, the
example and counselor of SinncrS:9'
At least he could go and thank Prize
| with clear conscience; rs for the chill
dren, they were already in bed, techni-
cally speaking, and having such Il capt.
tai pillow fight that they agreed to get
into mischief every day of their lives,
and be punished.
After that Mr.. Miller often found
himself dropping in, on one preteyt or
another, at The Elms; to ask Miss Prue
to play over the air of some new
psalmody. that he might join in the
congregational singing; to lend her the
latest volume of religious thought; to
beg advice about the children. Some
times he came bringing those unruly
infants, with their brown hands full of
peacock feathers and their little hearts
full of impenitencc. They and the
peacock were now the best of friends;
he ate from their hands and endured
their petting, which was much like
punishment, with hero!sm: if he stayed
away they hunted him out and brought
him home in triumph.
here said Jane
s. And their father, too,' added
John.
Not bite of sweet-bread can
keep in the larder; and when they tears
their frocks they goes straight to Miss
Pruc. and she mcnds them before
Bridget scolds 'em, just as if they'd be
her very own
8. A fine stepmother she'd be max
ing observed John. They do be
saying in the village that its her cap
she is setting for the parson.''
That's just the way of the g6ssips!
she that is Asserting of her cap for him.
The parson ought to ask EN- to pick
ont wife for him and suit their
selves
And then there's others who says
its her money persisted John, who,
like 4 fair historian, was bound to state
both sides; can that he come here
a-purpOSe to marry her
A great deal they knows about it
cried Jane. 81 heerd him tell her, with
my own blessed ears, that when he was
called to this ere parish he never
dreamed that she lived here. They must
hcv knowed each other, you see, when
they was young. aforc Miss Pruc came
into her great-uncle's property. and
came to live at The Elms; for | hear
'cm talking now and again of folks that
don't belong hercabouts. And he says:
DO YOU remember the day we went
hither and the day we went yon?' And
he says: Il remember, | remember
and looks away from her face | thinks,
myself, he must be an old beau of hers
| sees them together a heap. You know.
bringing in the tea-thingS. and the
lamps, and po,tering round
AT the kcy-hole,' laughed John.
"And Eve never found 'em love-
making opct, though | steps quiet-like
John. as you know, and it isn't like
opening u door 10 push the porticre
aside
1t is true the Miller children were u
great deal at The Fins, and gave their
father frequent excuse to follow them
and it is true there were few congenial
souls in the parish or village, and what
so natural that he should see more or
less of his pleasant neighbor, with whom
hC could journey back to the past. In
dec: they never talked of to-day or to-
MORO <: it was Away yesterday whose
praises hey sang. whose skies they ex-
tolled. wt..>e pleasures they coveted.
He was notEn.:;: like q lover, TO be sure,
except in pre:ai~ing her society. and
yet it was happiness to Prue to see
him there, TO know tf.lt he would come
to-mOrrOw II was towo,,l Dirht onn