Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1885-02-19
BARBARA.

! AS funtlle l-leuSautoI Spohc, sHC pun
beside the bed over which she was
leaning, u great bunch of fragrant vio-
let's, moist and beautiful, breathing their
sweet stories of shady nooAs in deep
woods.
A little, pale face, that had been ly-
ing lstlessly on the pillow, was lifted
eagerly.
ooh, how good you are Oh, they
are like hone, my own dear home 10
Great tears rolled down the pale
face.
"Tell me about your home. How
came you to leave it for this city ?"
said Fannie.
"My father died, and the farm was
sold to pay a mortgage. l had little
money, and thought I could find work
in the city Besides"
But here Barbara Golding stopped,
and a faint, crimson blush rose upon
her pale cheeks.
Him !" thought Fannie, wise in
twenty-five years of city life and edu-
cation /; "a love story"
She asked no questions, but pretty
soon Barbara said !:
"You have been so kind, I will tell
you. Perhaps you can tell me what to
do,'
81 will help you in any way that l
can."
1.-TWO years ago, the summer that l
was seventeen, father took boarder.
He was a lawyer, and his health had
failed from studying too hard. l think
he was about twenty-six or twenty
eight, not handsome, but so gentle and
! good that we all liked him from the
first. And he would come into the
garden with ME, and help me with veg
etables and fruit, because father left
that to me and would carry the milk
up to the dairy-room for me, and talk
about books and the city, and-oh Miss
Pleasonton, don't you know Z"
"He made love to you ?"
EYES," i'm faint whisper.
"And you loved him 9'
YES" again "I:couId not help it?
When he went away, he promised to
come the next summer, and he told me
when he made his fortune, he would
come to ask me to share it,
"Did he come ?''
"Father died the next spring, and |
came here. I thought 1 should find
him, but did not see him for long
time, and when 1 did had become so
poor, 80 very poor, I would not force
myself upon him. | worked as well as
| could, but this summer became sick,
and but for you should have starv'
ed"
''Do you think your lover is still true
to you ?"
81 cannot tell 1 would not trouble
him. Sometimes, after 1 found out
where his Office was, would pass by
after dark and peep in. 1t was beauti-
fully furnished; so l hope he is making
his fortune but only whispered
God bless him. and anne home."
"Will you tell me his name ?"
"Lennox-Cyrus Is. Lennox !"
Fannie Pleasanton turned her FACE
abruptly from the little seamstTess, who
had been the object of her charity for
the last six weeks, and walked to the
window. Lifting the soft, white cur
tains she had placed there, she looked
into the street, while ringing in her ears
was the name Barbara G oldlng had just
spoken.
"CyIus 3. Lennox -
She was very pale when she came a.
! gain to the bedside, but her voice was
steady and sweet as ever as she said {:
81 must leave you now, Barbara, but
I will come in again this afternoon. If
you want anything, Mrs. Harper will
answer the bell"
Eyes. she is very kind. But-you
will come again ?''
'This afternoon Try to eat 3 few
of the strawberries 1 have bro ught
you %.
She went away then, stopping as u.s.
ual to tell the janitress Of the poor ten
ement- house to care for the sick girl
unit! her return.
But instead of drying to the stores
where she had intended to make final
purchases for nearly completed we'd
ding outfit, she told the coachman to
drive home. Once there, unheeding
the anxious inquiries of her aunt, as
tonished at her early return and pale
face, she went to her own room, bolt
ing the door, before she sank down in
chair, wearied with the effort to
maintain her composure.
Cyrus B. Leanox, the girl said
Fannie Pleasanton, looking around her
luxurious room, saw pleasant confu-
sion of dress, new garments loading ia
bles and wardrobe, drawers overflow
ing with dainty fnery, open trunks