St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1885-11-14
AN OLD MANS PASSION.
The Curate's Love and How 1t Was
Rewarded.

Rewarded.
1t was beautiful young American girl,
Lettice Lee by name, who,m SoJourning
among her English friends Tor awhile,
crossed their fair garden, bright with the ten
der green's of spring and all abloOm with
hawthorn, and, tempted by the shadows of
the lane beyond, strolled slowly down it,
until. coming to an old church set about
with trees and flanked by an ancient grave
ward. she entered there and wandered
among the messy stones, reading their
Quaint inscriptions and thinking such
thoughts as youth and beauty do OF graves
and death-thinking pityngly and with
certain sad tenderness, but not as OF any
thing with which she had to do, or ever
would.
The willows were very old. The shade
was very deep. The gray church flung its
own dark shadows on the spot. The ivy
of centmie les draped its walls.
1t was so different from anything the girl
who had come from the land where all the
line buildings have brand-new look. and
even the ivy that is trained against church
walls speaks of a geOmetrcally -mnded
gardener-had seen, that it fascinated her.
She was romantic and pOetical; and it is
very hard to be romantic i'll America.
looked down upon the gray graveStoneS.
Most of them were so old that no one lived
to deck them any more. And yet the ages
written on them were often less than her
own was that day. One at her very feet
bore this inscription:
Here lieth Lucy.-Aged Sixteen.
A tear came into the girls eyes as she
read it. Perhaps more would have fol-
IN,,%a = hot, ,ntato xynia nnlnc hn
side her broke the silence.
You are looking at the graves, my dear.
These are only humble stones. Inside the
church there are some very fine tombS. If
you would like to see them l can tell you
all that is known of them. | have been
curate of Amberly for thirty years.
The girl turned toward the speaker.
Thirty years! That was nearly twice her
whole life. A very old man this must be to
speak of thirty years as mere portion of
his.
She looked into his face and answered
back the kind smile that shone upon it, and
felt thrill of wonder at the sweetness in
the eyes and on the lip; for in her short ex-
perience old men were either harsh or testy,
or at least cold and unsympathizing.
She had no father, or grandfather, or any
good aged relative. A little orphan, some
thing of an heiress, and very beautiful, she
had always been petted by her friends, and
had never been unhappy; but of strong
home ties that endear even the old and the
ugly, she knew nothing. An old gentleman
was some one who did not like noise and
was rather averse to music. whom it was
not unpleasant to see go out of the ROOM
and who generally paid the bills for some
body.
She gave the curate another smile, and
said: Yes, she would like very much to
see the church and the tombs Her name
was Lettice Lee, and she was visiting Mrs.
Holden, at the mansion yonder, and she
was just from America for the first time
Perhaps he knew" and the curate signifed
that he did know, and that Mrs. Holden
was his dear old friend, and they went into
the church together.
There are old faces that are more beauti-
full than any young ones can be. Not many,
it is true; for the evil passions of our race
anger and greed and malice and jealousy
are strong within too many breasts. and
mark themselves outwardly upon the fea-
lures, through the long, slow years of a long
life. too deeply. GriefS also line themselves
upon the brow, and hollow out the cheek
and dim the eyes, but now and then some
one, alike strong and sweet, putting by the
sin and bearing the sorrow patiently, comes
to the autumns of existence with such
cOuntenance as, it seems to me, God meant
that an old man should have. The curate
OF Amberly had done this.
The old bachelor curate had no reminis-
cences to make youth sweet no memory of
a young head pillowed on his bosom, or of
fond hands that had claSped his.
Somehow, he thought of this as he ush-
cred the young girl into the old church.
g., ALI
her movements were so gentle! A daugh-
ter like this n0W-a-. He checked
the fancy, put it away with a smile, and
walked on among the tombs.
On the tomb of Lady Margaret sculp-
tured form lay with clasped hands and
closed eyes. On that of Sir Percval Percy
knelt mailed warrior at prayer. Not
more cold and silent and at rest were these
than had been the love that should have
warmed that good life; and still, with
closed eyes, love slumbered in the Amer-
can girls breast. They looked at Lady
Margaret, at Sir Percival, at the gray tablets
in the floor and the white ones on the wall;
at the painted windows and at the strange
old Bible and the ancient prayer-books; at
the fine carving on pulpit and pews. They
talked great deal to each other, and when
at last she left the church to take her way
n0meWaru he SalQ 10 ner:
''If you should feel like reading, have
tolerabe library; and though am an old
bachelor. my housekeeper, Mrs. Pratt is a
very good old woman, and will do her best
to oblige you in every way. This is nv liz
tie home, you know" and he pointed to the
tiny house that hid itself among the trees
She thanked him and went her way, full
of new softness, and he looked after her.
Il should have liked so very much to
kiss her," he said to himself.
1t was the first time he had said it of any
woman even thus, and the blood flew to his
smooth brow as he spoke, and he blamed
himself very much, for he knew it was no
fatherly kiss of which he thought. did that
old curate.
And so strange. sweet friendship grew
into existence. The difference in their
ages, and his Office, gave them privileges
else impossible in decorous England Let
tice could walk and talk with that old
curate as much as she chose, and she chose
to do it great deal. The library was an
excuse, and there was the garden, and
what more proper than that she should go
to evening prayer?
And the old curate began very soon to
watch for her; to count the moments of her
absence, and to know that that which had
never come to him in youth had come to
him in age: too late for him to taste its
sweetness. but not too late to feel the bitter
ness that love must ever bring when it is
nothing but an unrequited longing.
Oh. if he could but keep her thus! he
said to himself If only she could love no
one else. And they might be friends for
ever. Then he could be happy. But this
could not be. Young. sweet beautiful
some one NAV claim her soon She would