Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-11-22

from MIN, where the hop-vine partially
screened her face from his view.
"How the smell of pinks does carry me
back TO the time when was youngl" said
the elder, pensively. awe were Young
together. Rschel-you and land Caddy.s
That name was like knife-thrust to her;
but it fell from his lips like an after
thought
Sometimes it don't seem any more'n
yesterday. and yet we've both got children
grown My little Caddy is most 49,"
Inc Widow Maxey caught her breath
sharply. That was one Of the disagreeable
IactS OF life watch she permitted herself to
forget, or at least to ignore-the fact that
Caddy Whitwell had left daughter; an in
significant, dull, pale little thing like her
self. She had gone away somewhere to live
with some distant relative, and work in a
nilliner's shop. 1t would be just as well
that she should stay away, the widow
thought; she hoped the elder would not
have any foolish ideas about it.
u had letter from her the other day
and she tells me that your Herman came
across her, by accident, and comes to see
her frequently. 1t would make things
pleasant to have them friends" said the
elder, softly.
For moment it seemed to the Widow
Maxey as if the solid ground were falling
beneath her. The odor Of the pinks was
overpowerfng. She had an odd sensation
OF listening to something in a dream. Her
son and Caddy Whitwelrs daughter! No
body could think of such a thing seriously I
Vi course the elder had meant nothing more
than friends, she thought, when she was
fairly herself again. But yet his tone was
significant, and his eyes had been fixed upon
her face; she actually had not dared to
meet them; her own dropped under them as
II she were girl.
, Must she make such a sacrifice Of her
pride as thiss
II didn't even know that Herman bad
ever seen her." she said, a trife colby.
She knew afterward that it had been
coldly said, by the constraint that fell be-
tween them.
Il hope, indeed, they may be friends, "
she added, and she would have given worlds
to take the chill out of her voice.
The elder talked persistenty of other
things, and she could not return to the sub
ject. He went away earlier than his Gus
tom, and the Widow Maxey wrote letter
to her son before she slept.
Elder Whitwell tells me you have found
his daughter in New York. hope you will
be kind to her; she must be lonely among
strangers.
, The handsome young man. with his
: mothers dark eyes and proud bearing, who
read that letter in his law-otfice in New
York, had surprised expression of coun-
tenance. When business and bonnet-trim-
ming hours were over. he took the letter
, with him to dingy little fat, in a decidedly
questionable quarter. where Caddy Whit
l we'll lived with some relatives of her
mother.
"You see, now, how utterly mistaken you
were," he said.
: The girl-she was a pale, slight little
thing, with no prettiness, whatever, for a
! casual eye-read the letter with an eager
blush that would have beautified her. il
} anything could have-that did beautify her.
: undoubtedly, in her lovers eyes,
"She only says BE kind to me;' she
t wouldn't think of the possibility of anything
t more" she said. 81 know how proud she is,
and there is something harder than prid in
; her eyes when she looks at me. l couldn't
bear it, Herman, and wouldn't spoil your
, life il could bear it'll l can't go to YOU
unless she welcomes me-"
"You're foolish little darling, with your
r scruples l will soon show you that you
} don't know my motherI" said Herman, COM
] placently.
And two days after wards his mother re-
! ceived letter extolling Caddy Whit
virtues and graces to the highest degree,
and asking her to receive her as daughter
in-law.
Z Mrs. Maxey sat on the porch again in the
j flower scented twilight. She had not seen
the elder for nearly a week; tonight he
: would be sure to come. Happiness, which
2 she had never known, was almost within
+ her grasp. She had paid price for til Sbs
o had written a cordial assent to Her
} mans proposed marriage. She had even
D written, at first, that his bride should be
, the daughter of her heart but she had torn
= that letter up. Caddy Whitwelrs daughter
: could never be that, and she would not say
it; but she had said that she should be well
come. Sbe had felt as il she were sacri-
ficing her son; Caddy VOL be just such a
: wife as her mother had been.
! "But he is like me; he would never get
over it." she had said to herself. Heaven
help proud and cold-heartsd people"
The elder waited for an invitation, with
t his hand on the gate, as he always did
Rachel Maxey's voice shook as she gave it.
5 Some time passed before she could summon
sufficient composure to tell her news The
elder was i'll at ease tonight and there were
long silences. Angelina, with her ear at the
} kayhole chcse behind the elders back, almost
! lost her patience, and afterwards conided
! to the solitude of her chamber that her
knees "felt as il she'd been to a protracted
; meetin'."
! When at last the widow spoke of the
} coming marriage Of their children, the
gathering darkness hid her face, but there
was a thrill of joy in her voice; she had
forgotten everything but the bond Of
. sympathy that it created between theml
j Tne elder took her hand in his
~ was most afraid to hope 'twould be so.
1 didn't spose you'd think twas a fttin'
match for him. But she's good girl, my
little Caddy; she's just like her mother"
! The widow WINGED. but her hand was fast
} In the elders. "And Herman is like you.
: | amt afraid to trust my little girl with
him. And you say you'll be a mother to
} herl amt deservin' of such mercies at the
} Lords hands It's a rebuke to me for bein
anxious about what was goin' TO become OF
! little Caddy. It's kind Of you, Rachel, and
il makes me bold to open my heart 20 you,
as I've been tryin' to get courage to for a
long time"
: The widow drew a long, delicious sigh.
4 III lis ,vae what all har barren, dreary years