The Penn's Grove record., 1884-07-12
WAS 1T PREsENTIMENT?

Let me open the windows of a long
closed memory, and cool you with the
December freshness of Il Minnesota
blast.
Our Christmas mail had come in.
The wood-fre was singing in the i'm
mense crate; otherwise, the silence IN
the o was only broken by the rust
ling of the paper as we read our letters.
Mine said :-"When are you coming
home, little Woman2 l have counted
the months on a rosary of tears and
Yesterday a decade had slipped through
nv fingers. Ten months since we looked
on your pale, charming spirituelle face
months p did l say? Call it rather ten
centuries. l am hungry for a sight of
you-for a sound of you. There is a
m of Hubert's coming down to
Washington shortly. Does that mean
fGod grant it J that you and Justine
travel with him ? JAsPAR."
Hubert was my brother and Justine,
his wife. Dear heart ! what need to
tell who JaSpar was ! l smoothed the
letter tenderly upon my knee, cdreSS-
ante, as one pats and smoothes the hand
of a friend. If [ had been alone, |
would have pressed it to my lips.
"Pale, charming spirituelle face" in
deed
A glance at the mantel-mirr0r made
me smile. The thin cheeks had rounded
into blooming peaches the waxen skin
had turned fresh and wholesome !: the
clear eyes were hollow and shadowy no
longer. My ten months in the West
had made me a sound wOman-thanks
to God and brother Hubert.
l looked around for the dear fellow.
He had Just seated himself at his library
table, which was Uttered with a large
mail. Justine was leaning over his
shoulder listening while he talked.
"You see there is no help for it" he
was saying ; ''instead of waiting until
March, l must start in the beginning of
January.
My heart gave a great throb of pleas
ure. We had talked the matter Over
so often, Justine and |. Both of US
young and fond Of change ; both of us
eastern. born, we were just then home
sick for a certain tar-off city. We did
not envy Catharine of Russia in her
palace of ice. We grew lethargic from
the intense cold. A sense of helpless
ness seized us amid those blank snow
fields the giant drifts frightened us
when we went sleighing, even with the
tips of our noses muffied in furs. We
read Saor- Bound critically, with the
storm shaking the house, and wondered
how Whittier found so much poetry in
so stern a prose. But while we cast
about for a spell that might dissolve Il
icy letters, Hubert came to the rescue.
LET not the iron enter your souls"
said he. ''Suffer and be strong" said
he. But the upshot of it ali was that
he was going south, in the early spring,
on business of Importance and could
so manage it as to leave us women, en-
route, at P
There was my home there was my
precious family circle there Jaspar was
counting his rosary Of tears.
To 90 in January instead of waiting
till March, was sWeeter and sweeter. |
stole out of the room and up to my own
chamber, with hope SO warm in my
heart, that it seemed to melt the snow
IN the outer window. sills. All the bleak
world grew green and sunny l almost
fancied the nesting birds were stirring
in the leafless trees.
That night, when l lay in bed, too
happy to sleep, the glow of my cham
BERTHE made a pleasant rosy spot III the
darkness. Watching it, l fell to think
ing how grave Justine had looked at
tea-time =; how silent she had been over
her knitting through the quiet evening.
None of her usual pranks. None of
her customary thefts of my paper-knife,
leaving me with uncut pages at the
most mysteriouSly thrilling situation
in the novel. None of her playful
prattle around Hubert's desk, coaxing
him from the intricacies of an estate
case letters testamentary, and other
wise), into the follies of a gam of crib
bage. What had CHANGED to make her
so dull2 The door was pushed gently
open while | unused and by the light
of the taper which she held, | saw Just
inc in her night wrapper.
She put down her candle, and came
and stood by my bed. Even in that
half shadow | could see the tears in
her eyes.
Hubert left it to me to tell you,
Dorie," she said ''and / may as we'll
out with it at once. He goes alone in
January"
l swallowed a sob in my throat q
cry rose to my lips but l held it in. 1t
was a bitter disappointment but l bore
it in silence.
"Dearest Dorie," said poor Justine
pityingly, 81 feel for you deeply. 1t is
hard enough for me but | have cast
my lot joyously and deliberately in
these western wilds, and | must not
complain
"But those dear home-folks-and-
and-Jaspar, - murmured so Just
inc why can't We 90 next week -
She stopped and kissed me tenderly