The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1885-05-09

need to be very hard to please to dislike
seeing him so iordly this evening.
| George Howe said it was pity there
wasn't something about witch-hazel; and
somebody said the ,citch was all out of
| Hazel tonight, and that snip of Frank
| Simmons said: "But not the witchery."
What did care for their nonsense!
mo more by thee my steps shall be,
Forever and forever"
LATER.-Rather may say earlier, for it
| is almost morning; still viii write another
page-if can.
Just as stopped writing there came the
| highest tap at my door, and when opened
| it there stood Aunt Nora. She had on her
palm leaf dressing gown, and her nightcap
| edged by a row of little curl-papers, but
| she looked beauty all the same.
"You naughty child" she said, "to be up
till this time o. night. was sure heard
you stirring"
81 am glad you are come" said, ''you
| will cheer me up a Bit"
81 am sure of it," she said, brightly ,"but
| first let US mend the fire."
When fresh log was blazing, and had
been wrapped in my fur cloak, she said:
"Charlie staid behind the others because
he had a letter to give me from his father.
l made him stop till read it, and then it
was so late and cold that kept him for the
| night. l put him in his uncle's room"
Charlie has always called them aunt and
uncle, though they are really second cous-
ins), "because that room was warm, as
| was there to-day beginning the packing.
Charlie is almost the only one could will
ingly see occupying my brothers rooms"
thought she meant to give me q lesson
in forgiveness, and remained mute.
81 wish you would read that aloud" she
said presently, handing me the letter she
had held in her hand all the time. This Is
what the letter said:
WASHINGTON, January a.
MRS. NORA FAIRFIELD ROsENCRANs:
DEAR CoUsIN-The year allowed for the
settlement of your brothers estate has ex-
pired, and as yet the will of whose existence
still do not despair, is not found. 1t therefore,
wish to inform you that have decided to you
the homestead and all the property that
forty-two years ago your brotherimpulsively
that the discovery of later will would con-
firm you in possession of what is yours in
law and equity, and l still hope by bequest.
However that may be. my own course is
Allow me here to thank you for your kind
ness to my boy. Since his mothers death
left me homeless, have found distraction in
public life. But have always objected to
my sons entering IL. and have at personal
sacrifice encouraged his sticking to the old
town. the old friends, and adopting my old
profession. Hope yet to return to end my
days amid the scenes of my youth, and shall
expect you to welcome me back as q neigh
Dor. Believe me yours sincerely,
ALFRED FAIRFIELD.
As I finished as best could, Aunt Nora
unfolded document that she said was the
deed.
l just threw my arms about her neck
and cried like baby, and she cried too.
1 think the first coherent thing said was,
"Char-Char-Charlie viii never forgive
me!n
"Yes, he WILL" she said, decidedly.
"How do you know?-did he say so?n
"He said as much-he said great deal
about you."
"what?" 1 gasped.
80, that he liked you all the better for
treating him SO ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS you
thought this place would become his
wrongfully."
Gas though his having the place could
possibly make me treat him well" l ex-
HE says it has made some of the girls
treat him too well by half" Aunt Nora
said, dryly.
"Ah, 1 know who one of them is-the
minxes!" cried. "But, Auntie, did he
really say that he liked me?"
$40, not exactly" chow my heart sank)
she said that he loved you"
"Aunt Norau'
eyes, he did-and now, deary, can't you
part with that aspen? The life seems to be
pretty well shaken out of it."
tossed the poor thing into the fire, and
snatched my roses from the vase. Pretty
soon Aunt Nora said good-u and left
me to my demonstrating dreams. / hope
sha'n't awake and find it is dream.
THURSDAY NIGHT.-Ar HOME: / didn't
find it a dream-at least the dream goes on.
1t was ten O'Clock this morning when
Aunt Nora and l sat down to breakfast, to
the CONSERVATION Of Phoebe, who had never
been subjected to such irregularity before.
We were just beginning our coffee when
Charlie appeared. l declare / thought
should sink through the floor, and wished
might. But he kissed Aunt Nora and
shook hands with me, and said good
morning as cool as you please.
After Phoebe left the room, Charlie said:
"Last night, late as it was, took down
one of my uncle's volumes of Shakespeare
to recall the exact connection of the rose
with any other name.'" He didn't look at
me, but all the same grew hot and red as
fire.
"Did my uncle use any of those volumes
just before he had the stroke?" asked
Charlie.
Aunt Nora. "a number of books lay
about the room, and if remember, some
Whygo
Charlie drew a paper from his breast
pocket and rose to give 1t to her, saying:
II found this between the pages Of Romeo
and Juliette."
"Read it for mel left my glasses up
stairs" said Aunt Nora. Besides, she was
trembling from head to foot.
Charlie read: "Feeling strangely unweIf
tonight, wish to put into writing-as I
have so foolishly neglected doing-my will,
bequeathing to my beloved sister Nora ali
of our fathers property, thus annulling all
previous wills made by me. The final dis
posing of the property I leave to my sisters
sensible and charitable mind, duty for
which she, far better than 1, is fitted. L
hope tomorrow to put this into suitable
FORM"
The last lines were hardly legible. 1.-THE
date shows" Charlie said gently, shat it
was written the very night upon which he
was taken ill. am very glad; my father
will be very glad"
"Dear brother" murmured Aunt Nora,
weeping with bowed head. ssHow thank
full l am that never even thought of going
to law about the will. This is worth the
a thousand times over-this, and
cousin Alfred's noble generosity"
We sat long silent. At last Aunt Nora
said: 1T truly seems more like fiction
than sober reality-an estate given away,