The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-08-15

me, but l would nave died sooner tnan
have told him so there. So l gave him
a bitter answer and we both grew an
grier still. His last words, uttered with
all the intensity of passion, ring still
in my ears. 1 can tell you them word
for word 'Hetty, if you let me go now,
understand clearly you will neve see
my face again. I did not quite believe
him. Perhaps if 1 had, l should still
have let him go. At any rate, 1 was
far too angry to give way then. Go,
| by all means, if you wish it, l said and
in another moment he was gone. I had
been tearing to pieces, in my passion, o
little spray of hawthorn he had given
me earlier in the day. I had pulled off
the leaves one by one, and when he left
me, the bare stem was left in my hand,
with one leaf only remaining. See,
here it is, the last relic of my first and
last love. God grant that in your whole
life, my Ruth, you may never weep such
tears as I have wept over that one faded
leaf.
Aunt Hetty took from her desk the
little prayer book she always carried, q
quaint little red covered book, with a
gilt clasp, and showed me just within it
a tissue-paper pocket attached to the
cover. This she opened and showed me
the faded leaf.
'"This little book" she said, twas Ed
wards first gift to me; and this old dry
leaf is my only relic Of the day when we
parted in anger in the wood, never to
meet again in this world. Stay. I have
one more treasure; see!"
|- G1.a J.a,,, TSa~a 49,. ~n.-. - IL
locket and put it in my hand. 1t was a
miniature painting, representing ayoung
man in an old fashioned naval costume.
1t was a handsome face, but stern and
proud-looking and I could we'll believe
that the original would have behaved as
Aunt Hetty had described.
"But did you really part like that,
auntie?" I said. Ibid you never see
him again."
Never. He did not go back to the
picnic party, but joined q outward
bound ship the very next day, leaving a
brief note for my mother stating that
we had fortunately found out in time
that we were unsuited to each other,
and had therefore by mutual consent
put an end to our engagement"
LUZ tAlo was NOAy SAuC1, auA10Ac.
IT thought so then. Perhaps it was,
q little; but afterwards l blamed my
self, far more than him. I had given
the provocation; and / knew in my heart
of hearts that one word of regret an my
part would have made all right between
rs. But I was too proud to say it. I
let him go with my eyes open and [ have
been justly punished.
"But have you never heard of him
since, auntie"
"Once or twice, in early years; but
only Indirectly. He had no relatives in
our part of the country. I know that
he gave up the sea, and obtained COM
mission in some Indian regiment.
When last [ heard of him he was cap
tain, but that was many years ago and
/ do not know whether he is alive or
dead. So ends my poor little romance.
There is one thing l should like to ask,
Ruth, and that is partly why l told you
my story. You have seen my relics.
They have been my greatest treasures
in life and I should like them put in
my coffin when / die. Will you remem-
Der this, dear?"
l could not answer for tears, but I
kissed her hand and she was content.
Two month ago, tired of our hum
drum country life, auntie and I re-
solved, for once, to visit foreign parts.
Accordingly, we went to Boulogne and
took up our abode in a quiet boarding
house in the Rue DIES Vieillards. Our
domicile was a quaint old house, said
to have been originally q nunnery ant.
| offarvorls tn hovo 1,aan non,,riaI Gov "a
short time by the great Napoleon when
meditating a decent upon England. A
broad gateway, fanked on either side
by disused field-guns, planted upright
in the ground by way OF gate-posts, led
into a pleasant courtyard, with seats
under the shade of a spreading tree
and made musical by the splash of a mod
est fountain. There were q good many
visitors staying in the house, but they
were mostly in families or parties and
we did not amalgamate much with
them. Our Wis. a Wis at table was atall,
elderly gentleman of soldierly-appear-
ance, who was always spoken of as the
major. He had evidently been n very
handsome man-indeed, he was hand
some still. His hair and mustache We're
perfectly white, forming a marked con-
trast with his complexion, which was
extremely dark, as if tanned by a long
residence under a tropical sun. Think
l was first attracted to INN by noticing
that his French was even worse than
our own. When he ventured, rs he
occasionally did, to address an order to
the uninterrupted waiting maids in their
own language, the difficulties he got in
to were dreadful, and he generally end
ed by getting rather angry with him
self and them. Once or twice I ven
tured very timid1y to help him out oil q
difficulty Of this kind, and in this man
ner a slight acquaintance had sprung
up between us. 1t had, however, pro-
ceeded no further than a friendly good
morning. o. a casual remark across the
dinner-table. With other visitors the
major fraternized even less. After
breakfast he regularly smoked one cigar
under the tree in the courtyard; after
which he started off for a solitary ram
BILE and did not reappear till din
ner time. So matters stood I'M
til the first Sunday evening after
our arrival, when he went. as in.
duty bound to the little English church
in an adjoining street. We were ush-
cred into one of the pews appropriated
for strangers; and n minute ortwo later
the major was shown into the same pew,
and sat down silently beside us. The
service proceeded in the usual course,
and the sermon was nearly over, when
the major by an accidental movement of
his elbow, knocked down auntie's little
red ~prayerbook, which was on the slop-
ing edge before her. He stopped to
pick it up, and was about to replace it,
but rs it came in view in the full glare
of the gaslight his eye CHANGED to fall
upon it, and he started as though he
had seen a ghost. He laid down the