Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1885-11-25

that she had never been known to as
sumo before. 81 trust see you well.
Poor thingl Her heart was beatip,
like girls at eighteen, and she ha1
assumed the manner of a prim fifty
year-old spinster. She forgot to intro
duce Alice, which that young lady an
grily resented, and attributed, with tn
stiff manner, to reprooT for her OWL
levIty.
81 am quite well, except of cours
for the liver" he responded: ''but /;
man of my time OF life, and vino ha
had so many years OF Indian diet, ha
no right to expect anything from hi
liver but discomfort"
There was an awkward little pause
Miss Luttrell caught her breath.
But you are looking well, Helen,
said the Colonel, the restraint suddenly
vanishing from his manner. "You art
so little changed that knew your fact
IN minute when l encountered you
this morning-at least there seemed
something very familiar in it; and, whcr
Bennett told me your name, it all flashed
upon me-"
''Then you did not really recognise
mep" said Miss Luttrell, with cold
little smile.
why, of course not, or l should have
stopped!''
Colonel Norreys actually blushed
and glanced so consciously at Alice that
Miss Luttrell instantly guessed who
had been the real object of his atten.
tion.
my niece, Miss Wentworth, she
said introductorily, and then was 81.
lent.
If she had spoken, she felt she mu st
have cast aside her dignity and said
something angrily stInging-she. the
gentle Helen Luttrell, who was never
known to speak sharp word.
Ies-the long gap of twenty-four
years had vanished, and she was ieal-
Gus petulant girl again, ready to take
up the thread of her last quarrel with
Seymour Norreys where it had been
dropped; only Seymour Norreys did not
appear to entertain the same feelings
with regard to her, she thought, with a
smart of the old bitterness.
She sat silent for two or three min
utes, during which her mind drifted
back to the time when she had paid
that memorable visit to Hampstead,
and had met young Norreys, then a
lieutenant in the --th. Every scene
every incident, every emotion re-
CURED to her mind the children's
party, to which two or three grown.up
people had been asked to help to amuse
the little ones; her first waltz with a
real officer; her first taste of admiration
IN the whispered fattery and the devo.
ted attention bestowed on her that
evening; the night at the opera, when
Seymour had made his way from the
stalls and stayed beside her, and escor-
ted her to the carriage; the half-accI-
dental meetings on Hampstead Heath;
the evil spirit of jealousy aroused by
Ethel Browning's disparaging hint that
officers did not like ''bread. nd-butter'
misses, though they might amuse them
selves with such girls in the absence of
others; then that most lovely of spring
days, when they all went to Kensing-
ton Gardens, and Seymour Norreys
contrived to get her away from the
others. and told her that he loved her,
and made her promise to marry him;
and then the drive home, when Ethel
to secure the officers attef
ton for herself, and said such unkind
things when they were alone afterwards.
The next morning she had gone to
meet him alone on the hearth, as they
had arranged; but she was SO long in
making up her mind and in battling
Ethel that she was an hour late, and
net NoTreys coming away from the
.rysting place. She was tired and cross
and somehow they quarreled.
She awoke suddenly to consciousness
IF the present; it seemed as if she must
lave been for hours in state of sus-
pended animation. What would the
others think? Had she looked PECULIAR
Had she revealed her thoughts in her
ace? Were they wandering and con-
occurring about herp
But, with sharp pang of humilia-
ion, she saw at once that they had been
,wo busy thinking of each other to re-
member her presence In the ROOM.
''He likes 'bread-and-butter' misses
low," she thought sadly; "but, when |
vas eighteen, l could not have talked
IS Alice is talking now. Dear me! l
hought men hated clever women, and
thought that Alice's school despised
men and would never dream of laying
themselves out to Win admiration"
Miss Luttrell went to her room ear
Ter than usual to put on her evening
lress. She looked at herself long and
in the glass, and tried to re.
all her face at eighteen.
She could not have looked so very
lifferent, she thought. She had grown
leither stout nor thin; she had neither
ray hair nor wrinkles; her eyes looked
Iuite as young and eager and bright as
hey used to do when she surveyed her.
elf before going out for the walks on
hampstead Heath. 1t must have been
he style of dress, she concluded, that
eally made the difference.
She looked through the photograph |
lbum that evening, and found one of !
Ter own, slightly faded, taken during |
er visit to London. 1t was a full
sngth portrait, in which she appeared
u a gigantic crinoline. Certainly |
he last She had taken looked much
icer. She showed the old one to |
Alice.
ssThat is what 1 was at your age. L
m great deal changed, ,am not?' she
sked.
"Why, what an old fright you werel''
Alice exclaimed. sYou look really |
ounger now than you did then, if that
photograph is anything to go by. 1t
nust have been very hard on girls to
make them look like old women"
s'Girls did dress 'old' then" Miss Lut-
rell admitted, and then told herself
hat perhaps, after all, Alice was right
that she did look younger now, with
nodern advantages of dress, than she
id in the bloom of her teens.
She still kept up her music, and play
d well; but she seldom sang. This
vening she turned over her old school.
irl volumes and found song that
eymour used to be very fond of, and
/ which her upper notes came out well
he began to sing it; but soon she
ushed the music impatiently away
he words appeared so silly and the
,elody somehow had lost its charm.
hen Alice sang song of Schubert's,
I l. |