The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1884-05-09

| day. when a fresh outburst Of ridiculous
| s~entimentality marked the anniversary
regularly kept with sorrow and re-
grets through long, hopeless years-oi
the Originals departure.
BY the time the silent figure at the
| table opens its eyes, and returns to life
as Miss Martingale, the twilight has
gone. A broad ray of light is stream
ing through the window-panes and
across the table from the street-lamp
outside.
what a silly creature l am, to be
sure" Miss Martingale soliloquizes as
she steps to her desk to lock up the
photograph packet in the most secluded
drawer. at is ridiculous and wrong in
me to indulge these vain regrets and
f~ancies. Why cannot / bury them, as
a sensible woman ought to bury them ?
I am not q girl. l amnot even a young
woman now. Ought l not once for all
to put these bygones from me, and never
again revive hopes that can never be
realized? But / can't"
She has been trying many s%orrowful
years, without any very satisfactory
success, it would seem.
perhaps there isn't very much harm
in recalling the old days"
At this Miss Martingale signs again,
and sits down; while the mahogany
witness, like n hardened, incorrigible
creature, ticks away as unsympathizing-
~ as ever.
It's mistress continues, But, after
all, perhaps, | ought to be thankful my
life has had so little trouble in it. There.
are many, many women who must envy
me- even me; for, after all, ] am hap
py.tolerably happy"
OF which reflection another sigh is,
of course, merely confirmatory.
"And yet" the reflections continue,
cit is very lonely living here all these
years, with not a soul to love, except
other peoples children instead of being
so happy, asst might have been, if"
"Oh, bother! How I'm getting SEN
timental again in spite of myself, Posi-
lively crying-as if that's any good!"
Mrs. Martingale straightway rises
erect, smooths her hair, tries to dis
cover at a looking glass in the dark
whether her eyes are red, and is just
resolving to sally forth at once to a lee
ture on Missionary Experience
Amongst the Ojibbeways," of which Q
circular lies upon the table, when her
housemaid enters with an earnest re-
quest for MIN" to pinto the "kitch-
ing" on business in regard to which she
will take no denial.
To Miss Martingale's surprise she dis
covers on her return to the room that
the girl has, for some unaccountable
reason, left it III darkness, a for the
lamplight, albeit she had remained be-
hind ostensibly for that purpose.
"Why, dear me, Kate, aren't you
there?" Miss Martingale exclaims, as
she gropes for the bell. The girl hasn't
even closed the shuttersl"
Perhaps it is as well the shutters are
open, for the lamplight, shining full
across the table so as to obscure every
thing else in deeper shade throws a
ghostly sheen upon the white envelope
of aletter lying there, addressed, surely
enough, to the mistress of the mouse her
self.
What That handwriting-the Or
lAItldl > j L1ClnS : ANOM DuANAts -
ly, this can not be-"
Miss Martingale is calf way into a
swoon from fright.
: From him? No, of course mott How
ridiculo,s!"
Nevertheless, her breath comes in
quick, short gasps as she re-reads the
snperseriptien- When she summons up
courage to open the missive, and, by
straining her eyes at the window, sue
:ceeds In deciphering the contents, you
may, ~figuratively speaking, knock down
Miss Martingale by the simple opera
ton of blowing at her.
From him? To be sure it isl
"MY DEAR MARY am afraid that
long ere this you have given up wasting
your thoughts upon so worthless an OBJ
iect as I am Yet, remembering the af-
lection we once had for each other, /
am tempted. ever after this long silence
how painful to both of usl--to hope
that you had not quite forgotten me-
My two last letters to you must have
miscarried, for they were never an
swered. After / had waited long /
heard you were married, and in des-
pair at what I thought your cruelty and
unfaithfulness, / hated ever to return
home. Only recently / discovered the
mistake, and learned how patiently
through all these years You have, as !
still hope, cherished my unworthy
memory. Dear Mary, is it too latey
Guy"
From GUY Oh, thank heavenir
Quite overcome by the good news,
Miss Martingale no sooner receives it
than she displays signs of foregoing in one
moment all that happiness which she
mas waifed TIL oldSmaidhood to obtain.
She falls breathlessly into the armchair