Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1885-04-16

Harlow, miss; and when's it to be?
Yes, there was one for Mr.. Harlow.
and there was one for YOU"
Il IL 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 nlnepence to pay. 1t ought to be
worth getting, miss, to make Farmer
Marrlsh pay out ninepence without so
much as word. And Mr.. Marrish. he
said as he was going up to Legs Croft
ne would take up yours and Mr.. Har-
lows letters too. All, Miss Blackburn.
Mr.. Harlow's not q bit like Mr.. Marrish.
he don't mind a ninepence not he.
And to think of a gentleman like that
being Eli Harlow's boy, that / mind
playing in the mud beside this very
door, and watching the horses shod.
while his father-but I forgot, miss; Eli
Harlow be your own fathcr-in- law if
he was alive. And young Stephen
don't forget old friends, not he '.Tis
bit of come down, miss, as / ALWAYS do
say it, for a Blackthorn to marry a
Harlow; but when young man comes
back with a silver lining in his coat, it
does make 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 a fact, he
hal his arm round her waist only last
Sunday fortnight, after evening service,
on the common. and so as l 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
letter-carrier besides. However, it was
kind and neighborly, and nothing so
very extraordinary after all. She wished
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,
been, and why.
I've got your letters; l thought I
might save you the trouble" said he.
Il expected an important one myself;
and it struck me YOU seemed a bit wor-
ried, if there anything [ can do"
She bit her lip with ungrateful vexa-
IioAi' w httb 81 AcOA L We pNCLs III
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 q word. Thank
you, Mr.. Marrish. 1t was very kind.
But. indeed, / had no troublc-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?7' asked he.
Neither good nor bad" said Pa
| tience-as if what she had seen had not
come upon her like fash of forked
| lightning out of Il cloudlesS sky. 1T
is notwithstanding 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 self-com-
mand her hand was hot and trembling,
while his was trembling and cold 1t
was not a gasp, only a touch, that
passed between the cold hand and the
warm. And, despite the calmness of
| his voice, he felt there was flash i'll the
eyes he dared not meet, that might have
pierced through him if he gave her the
| faintest chance of reading him. mo
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
| only l suppose you've caught his fancy with
your farm he thinks he can make so much by.
mo: men aren't to he trusted tin they're over
| forty year old. When you've got a man of
| your own, don't you let him out of your
been after him. And I'm going to stick to
him; and though he don't think it's fair to let
| you know, do. So rite this my own self to
say you'll see him never more, unless you
| like to take trip to 'Merica and be intra-
juiced to your obejent humble servant to
| MRS. 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 n bludgeon. Moreover, why
should any exception be made of forty
year-old honesty? And, indeed, there
were as many points As words fit for q
| critical eye. But Patience Blackthorn
knew nothing of spite or cowardice, or,
at least, of their Observation-Disclosures the
foibles of her father Tom or of her broth
er Dick. these were not of them; and
she had no girl 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, and one of such sort. handle for
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
would do. She would meet Stephen
with her whole heart in her hands.
show him the foul and venomous thing,
and triumph in the way in which he
would crush the sting.
But, then, he must return. She
| wished he was not away just then,
though the letter had piqued her into