The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1885-04-30

Harlow, miss; and when's it to be?
Yes, there was one for Mr.. Harlow,
and there was one for YOU"
'Ill take them now. please" said she.
"And welcome, Miss-Only Mr.. Mar
IRISH was here but now, for his own let
tiers: what a lot he do have TO be sure
three all to himself this very morning,
and one from London. too. only fancy.
And ninepence to pay. 1t ought to be
worth getting, miss, to make Farmer
Marrish pay out ninepence without so
much as word. And Mr.. Marrish, he
said as he was going up to Legs Croft
he would take up yours and Mr. Har-
lows letters too. An, Miss Blackthorn,
Mr.. Harlow S not bit like Mr.. Marrish.
He don mind a ninepence - not he.
Ind to think of a gentleman like that
being Eli Harlow's boy, that l mind
playing in the mud beside this very
door, and watching the horses shod
! while his father-but | forgot, miss; Eli
HarlOw'd be your own father-in-law il
he was alive. And young Stephen
dom forget old friends, not he. IT'S a
bit of come down, miss, as | always do
say Il, for a BlaCkthOrn to marry Il
Harlow: but when young man comes
back with a silver lining liz his coat, it
does make a difference to be sure. And,
after all, | don't know as there's an
other man in the parish fit for YOU,
! Miss Patience. unless 'twer young
! Scramble at MarShead, and he's sweet
on Martha Willet; know for fact, he
! la his arm round her waist only last
Sunday fortnight, after evening service,
on the common. and so as | always
! do say"
| And so on; and as much more as
! Patience did not choose TO stay for. 1t
was something new and little odd,
for Farmer Marrish to make calls so
early in the day, making himself a
ttcr-carrier besides. However, it was
kind and ne ghbOrly, anu nothing so
very extraordinary after all. She wish d
| she had not come down, to be talked
to, and at, and over. And she wished
it still more when Enoch Marrish came
full upon her Just outside the village,
50 that he must guess where she had
been. and why.
I've got your letters; thought l
might save you the trouble" said he.
Il expected an important one myself;
and it struck me you seemed bit wor-
ried, if there 5 anything L can do"
She bit her lip with uhgrateful vexa-
ton. ''What fool I've been" thought
she, ''to be taking on about nothing, so
that everybody could see! I'll never
worry again-no. not if Stephen stays
away a week without a word. Thank
you, Mr.. Marrish. 1t was very kind.
But. indeed, / had no trOuble-none at
all" She took the letters with an air
of Indifference that enraged him, it
was so palpably assumed. Two letters.
One for Mr.. Stephen Harlow, from
Millport; one for Miss Blackthorn.
She opened the letter-she glanced
at it. Enoch Marrish watched her in
tently as she crumpled it up and put it
into her pocket.
Good news. / hope?' asked he.
Neither good nor bad" said Pa
tience-as if what she had seen had not
come upon her like a flash of forked
lightning out of cloudless sky. 1T
is nothing nothing at all" She was
not going TO carry her heart upon her
sleeve any more. Don't let me keep
you from gong on to Legs Croft. l
have some errandS in the village.
Thank you, Mr.. Marrish. 1t was kind
of YOU to take so much trouble, indeed"
He did not meet her eyes as she held
out her hand. In spite of her sclf-com-
mand her hand was hot and trembling,
while his was trembling and cold. 1t
was not gasp only Il touch, that
passed between the cold hand and the
warm. And. despite the calmneSs of
his voice. he felt there was Il flash in the
eyes he dared not meet that might have
pierced through him if he gave her the
fainteSt chance of reading him. No
trouble-a pleasure" he muttered, and
went his way, half wondering, for the
moment whether what he had done had
been done well.
Miss BLACKTHORN-aS that's your name.
If YOU think you've caught Stephen Harlow,
you re in the rOng box, and no mistake there.
stephen Harlow was promised to me, and a
good bit more than promised. up at Millport;
only suppose you've caught his fame, with
your farm nc thnkShe can make so much by.
But that won't do for me. You take my warn
ing; men aren't to bc trusted till they're over
forty year Old. When you've got a man of
your own, don't You let him out of your
sight; and if he goes. be after him. like I've
been after him. And | III going to stick to
him; and though he doa't think it fair TO let
YOU know, do. So | rite this my own self to
say you IL see him never more, unless you
like To take a trip 30 'Merica and be intra-
juiced to your Obejent humble servant to
command a. is to be
Mis- STEPHEN HARLOw.-.SO There"
Now the reader has seen at once that
this was no woman'S letter. For it was
not in her style, and had no postscript
nor any of the stabS that spite feminine
knows how to triumph by. 1t was as
stupid as bludgeon. Moreover, why
should any exception be made of forty
year-old honesty? And. indeed, there
were as many points As words fit for
critical eye But Patience Blackthorn
knew nothing of spite or cOwardice, or,
at least. of their niceness-whateve the
foibieS of her father Tom or of her broth
er Dick, these were not of them; and
she had no grl friend. But. on the
other hand, she knew the letter to be a
shameful lie. Why it should be written,
who should write it, she could not
guess; but lie she knew it to be- Her
emotion had not been dismay, but anger
and scorn.
Young men did get into trouble
She could not be Dick Blackthorn's
sister without knowing so much of the
world. 1t was bitter to think that
Stephen, though it was before he loved
her, could have given some other wom-
an, aud one of such sort. handlefor
misunderstanding. But the way to take
that would be to take care that no mis-
chief should be made. Stephen false to |
her or any other girl or woman-why,
it was as impossible as that the sun OF
heaven should lie. She knew what she |