Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1885-03-26

be run into. OF course he begged my
pardon, and Il little surley at the
fright he gave me, granted it. In do.
ing SO ] looked at him--"Good heav-
ems ~ exclaimed, sis it you, Miles
Middleton, or Your ghost?'
"How did you recognize me after
all these years?' he asked, halfpleas-
ed, half disappointed
"Come in, said, being at my own
door. I'VE can not stand talking at
midnight in the street"
let my self in by the night-key, and
put up the gas light to its full power
before turned to welcome poor Miles
back to his native village. For twcn-
ty-two years his nsme had been spoken
by his friends with bated breath, as if
he were amongst the quiet dead, or
far worse, amongst the SHINING. In
the glare of the gas light turned to
look at him. 1t was the same Miles |
had always known; twenty-five years
older, would never guessed if | had
not known the date of our last meet
ing; twenty-five pounds heavier which
was an improvement. A guilty con-
science and an impaired digestion had
not been among his evils all these
years. His hair had not lost its color.
though it grew thinner on the temples
and on the crown of his head, and his
eyes had the same frank, fearless look
in them, his mouth the same winning
smile.
"Oh, Miles, | cried, with both
hands outstretchcd, "why did you
ever 90 away and all these years make
no sign?"
because" he answered, taking
both my protlered hands, Frames
doubted me"
"How do you know she did?" !
asked. "You gave her no chance to
speak. Proplc said dreadful things OF
you, which you did not deny, but ran
away"
Il did not rum" he said, hotly; "I
stayed quite long enough to see that
some friends doubted me; not you, !
am sure. Even that | could have
borne if Frances had been true"
"You gave her no chance" | main
tanned. "DO you think have forgot
ten that miserable evening? 1t all
seems as yesterday; the birthday fete,
the color of the sunset clouds, the pink
ribbon Frances wore in a knot at her
throat. Poor girl ! she was as white
as her dress when her own father ac-
cused you Of
"Why do you not 90 on and say
steallng?" he said, sharply.
Because We don't uso such ugly
words nowadays; embczzling is more
gcntecl. was indignant and said
foolish things"
"And Frances said nothing" he in
terruptcd.
"Did you expect her TO get into Il
rage as a mere friend would have
done? Besides, you would make no
denial. Her pale, pleading face did
not move you, If they chose to be-
licvc such things of you they might,
you said, in foolish pride.
You forget how young was, and
how hurt was,' he answered, soften
ing under my vituperatiOn.
II remember Frances was some
years younger, and frightened fol
you rs we'll rs hurt. You gave hel
no chance to retrieve hurried first
step, or rather n mistaken inaction,
for you went away at Oncc-thc best
thing YOU could do, some said. but the
most cowardly, thought, and left ne
trace for all these years" "
"I said | would not come back un
til | could bring proof of my limo
ccnce.'
That was not necessary to those
who really cared for you. Besides
the man who took the money con,
fessed he did 50 ten years ago. Death
forced him to confess. But this is,
fancy, no news to you.
II heard it last week." he said, and
then added, "You have Just left hcr?'
yes" said; we have been keep
ing her birthday
~ heard her speak to you at the
door, Has she changcd?" he asked
and then looked as ii he wished he
had not.
"Nlost of us do in twenty years.
said cvasively. you seem to have
the secret of keeping young. France.
will be pleased | added partly be
cause myself resented seeing him q
handsome, middle aged man, while
she had faddei out of all her girlish
prettinesS,
"lIer voice has not changed in thu
least" he said. 81 would have known
it anywhere. Do you think she will
see me?"
"Shc must" said | with decision,
and together We planned their meet
ing. | was to send to Frances early
in the morning before there was any
chance of the mention of the advent
of a stranger in our placid village
So the trysting, after twenty-five
years of separation, was to be in my
parlor. Poor Francesy' | thought
as | lay awake thinking of the meet
ing next morning, ''your forty year
have not brought YOU the calm, stead,
pulse, and tho pleasant monoton,
you covet. Can anything be NOR,
stirring and upsetting than an un
looked for honeymoon at forty? Afte
all, it is doubtful whether we are eve
too old TO escape responsibility o
II heartache, or perhaps, happiness
Miles came before Frances indeet
before ] had finished my breakfast
He was dreadfully nervous, and fear
full she would not come in spite of m,
nicely worded message, There mus
have been some stirring in the air
some bird to hint secret, for neve
saw Frances, faded as she was, loo
sweeter. 1t was like the smell of with
cred rose leaves, and the faint pink o
them was in her cheeks.
II have birthday gift that came to-
late last night to bring you," | said
meeting her on my threshold.
The pink in her cheeks died out TO
a moment, then came back in the love
liest girlish blush. "Have you ha,
news from Miles ?" she asked. &c
dreamed last night he came back
the same handsome fellow. You tol,
me / would see ghosts"
~ did not mean to prophesy such
substantial one," | said, quickly, an,
then gently pushed her into the par
lor, closing the door on them, leavin,
them to themselves, while dreame,
of a wedding and BRIDES cake.
For no one could say that France