The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1885-01-24
Select STORY.
A FADED LEAF.

From the american queen
can hardly believe it even now. IF
there was one person in this world whom l
should have thought safe from the remot-
est chance of matrimony, that person was
Aunt Hetty-dear, placid middle-aged
Aunt Hetty And yet | have just seen
her drive away from the door, hand-in-hand
with her handsome husband, and looking
as sweet and bonny as any young bride of
10, notwithstanding her silver hair. 1t has
all happened 50 quickly and in such a
wonderful, fairy tale kind of fashion, that
| feel as if it had taken my breath away and
as if I must really sit down and rest bit
and think the matter over.
have lived with Aunt Hetty ever since
mother died. When | came to her | was
quite little tot, and now [ am six-and-
twenty, so you may imagine it is good
many years ago Auntie must have been
a young woman then, but somehow she has
always seemed middle-aged to me. She
was always so calm and gentle, and did
everything in such quiet, business-like
way that | regarded her as different kind
of being from my restless, exeitable self. |
have had my little firtations now and then
but Aunt Hetty seemed too grave, too
wise, too good altogether ever to have been
mixed up in anything so frivolous as a love
affair. It only shows how we may live
with people in the same house, yet know
little or nothing of their feelings re-
member, almost as if it were yesterday,
fancying one day about year ago, that
auntie was dressed more carefully than usu-
al. | don't know what the difference was
only an extra bit of lace or ribbon or
something of that sort, but said to her in
fun:
'Why, auntie, dear, how smart you
arel One would think you were going to
a wedding"
"No, dear" she said, II am.not going to
a wedding, but this should have been my
own silver-wedding day" And the dear
lip quivered for a moment and tear came
into the soft gray eyes"
"Your silver wedding, auntie! Forgive
mel I didn't know
'sNo, DEAR she said, 'sof course you
could not. 1t is very old story now"
'sBut how was it, then, that you were
not married after all, auntie2" inquired
But perhaps ought not to ask. Don't tell
me if it pains you.
aNo, dear" she said, sit vas a painful
story once, but the pain has gone out of it
now. And | think | should like to tell it
to you Perhaps some day it may save
you from making such a mistake as | did.
It very simple story-just lovers quar-
rel, few hasty words all said and over
in five minutes, but they altered my whole
life"
ga lovers quarrel, auntie Then [ am
sure the fault was not on your side.
"Yeu are wrong, dear. The falt 'oas
on my side was proud and angry and
obstinate; a word would have given me
back my lover, but I would not say it.
We parted in anger, and we have never
met againl'
"You, auntiel-the most patient Of liv-
ing beings-you proud and angry and OBJ
stinatel | can't believe it.
''Yes, Ruth, it is true, nevertheless. Sit
here on the hassock at my feet and | will
tell you my story. It won't take long"
| sat down accordingly, and with her
hand resting on my shoulder, and now and
then wandering lovingly over my hair, she
began:
1T happened when I was only eighteen
younger than you, Ruth, and full of life
and spirit-yery different from the faded
old maid you have always known me. |
was engaged to be married. My lover was
four years older than myself; he was a
mate Of ship, and fine, dashing young
fellow named Edward Blake. We had
been engaged six months, and were to be
married month later The day was fixed,
and Edward had arranged to give up the
sea and take a situation on land. We
were as happy as any two young people
could possibly be, but, unluckily, just a
month before the time fixed for our we'd
ding-day, picnic was gotten up by some
of our young friends, and Edward and [
were of the party. There was handsome
young fellow there named Percy Sandys,
the son of neighboring clergyman. He
was fresh from college, and full of fun and
frolie | chanced to be placed next to him
at luncheon, and not knowing, as | after
wards discovered, that l was engaged, he
was specially attentive to me. [ did not
care for his attentions in the least but i
was in high spirits and only bent on the en-
joyment of the moment, and | did not
check him as, perhaps / ought to have
done. Presently I caught sight of Ed
wards face, and saw that he was looking
very cross and angry. Foolishly, l thought
it rather good fun to make him jealous, and
on purpose to tease him, pretended TO
take all the more notice of Mr.. Sandys
When we had finished luncheon the party
scattered and strolled about the woods in
various directions. | naturally expected
Edward to accompany me, but he rather
rudely, as l thought, held aloof, and tc
punish him l paired off with Mr.. Sandys.
When the party gottogether again Edward
looked so savage that | thought it better
not to provoke him any further.
[ shook off Mr. Sandys, and, walking
away with Edward, began to scold him for