Connecticut western news., 1884-01-23
HIS OWN.
BY E. RExFoRD.

Alice Graeme rose from the piano, where she had been playing dreamy, mourpful music, in accord with the desolate November day, and went to the window, though why she did so she could not tell.
 She made @ picture that an artist woull have delighted to paint, as she stood there in the dull, gray light of the waning day, holding back the scarlet curtain with her hand. Her high-bred, cultured face showed like clear-cut cameo against the scarlet of the drapery. There was beauty in every line of it 1; not SO much the mere beauty of color and curve as it was inc beauty of intel lect aud soul, which found its strongest expression in her pure eyes.
 A young man walked down the street opposite the window where she stood. A soft flush came into her face when she saw him, and her brown eyes lighted as the surface of a brook breaks into sum- shiny nipples when it is stirred.
 "I wonder if it was to see him that I came to the window ?" she said softly as she watched him. T wonder if there Is any truth in the theory of mental tele- graph. Perhaps he was thinking of me, and his thought was transmitted to me over the invisible wires wAich connect our souls, and that drew me to the window. Who knows? If I were to 'call him, wonder if be would receive and understand my message 7-J John 1! John Trevor p
 She whispered the name, and strange to say, the man looked that way sudden ly and saw her standing at the window. A quick, swift light came into his face at sight of her, md he bowed, with Q rare smile on his lips.
 She watched him out of sight, as wo- men are apt to watch the men they love. When she turned away from the window her face had thoughtful look in 1t. She was thinking of John Trevor, and wondering if their path would run on to- gether, or diverge.
 She sat down by the fire, and thought 1t all over. She had known John Trevor six months. He had come to fill the place of the FernIey rector, while that gentleman was away on his summer holiday. There was something 80 win ing, so earnest and magnetic in the young minister that he had had no diff culty in making himself friends in the rather aristocratic old place, and Alice Graeme. with the true Graeme hospi-i tality, had invited him to make himsel Sat home" with herself and aunt, when ever he felt inclined to do so. And he had come there often, and she had found in him man who understood her, and who was fitted by culture and intellect to meet her on her own ground. Be- cause she wrote poems now and then, and was considered literary" people had come to be somewhat afraid of her. But John Trevor was not. And because he was so frank, so thoroughly honest with her, she liked him from the first; there was novelty in having a man dis agree with her, and talk to her about matters and things as if she were man, and capable of understanding them. He met her as his equal, and for that reason if for no other, from the outset of their acquaintance, she had given him place in her friendship that DO other man had ever held. He was young, talented and enthusiastic. He threw his whole heart into the work he had to do for the Mas. ter, and people who heard him preach said he would be famous some day. There was fire in his sermons. There was genius there, and the world would find 1t out. When the old rector came back to Fernley, he brought to Trevor q letter asking him to accept the iucum- beucy of living a few miles distant. His friend congratulated him on the prospect before him. Here was q chance of making himself popular, and the stipend was good. But John Trevor was pot ready to say yes to the offer. There was plenty of work in Ferney. There was Q church in the poorer part of the town, whose finances were in feeble condition, but he felt that the souls there were worth as much as they wonld have been if their owners had been worth more of the worlds goods. They needed some one to labor among them. There was chance of doing great good there. Was it not bis duty to stay witt them? A line kept haunting him: "Dc the duty that nearest lies ;' but in tha village there was waiting for him an op portunity to make bis mark in tho world. It would be stepping-stone tc higher things, and he yearned so muct to reach the heights above him.
 And so, thinking 1t over, and trying to decide what to do, John Trevor wait ed and worked. Every Sunday h, preached in the poor little church, who's, occupants were in the habit of thinkin. more of the sermon than of their fin,