The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-06-24

it. knew your father and grand
father before you. am your friend.
Go home with me.''
Ellen had no intention of consenting.
He let her talk on. She had sat down
before him, with her kindly shrewd
eyes fixed on his weary, white counte-
nance.
''You have heard your father speak
OF Thedora Dale, his old sweetheart :;
that was me. All, we'll, I nave been
widow thirty years, and We keep
open house at Dovesdale-my niece,
Hope Devon, and l. Perhaps you have
seen !Hope-a brown-eyed girl with \
dimpled chin. She went to school
with Cleone Trafford.
"Then you know Miss Trafford?''
"Know her, bless your heart, yes.
Knew her from child. Knew her
parents and all her family. She was
the belle at. Washington two years
ago."
''Yes," full of panied vivid interest
at last.
The she began to tell of Cleone Traf-
ford's wedding, for the sake of gaining
her point. And when she had gained
it, when the stage had rolled by and
left the passenger booked for the train
still sitting on the piazza at the Star
House, she ceased to turn the thumb
screw.
"A very taking girl; you were not
Indifferent to her, doctor Ellen; one is
apt to let out such little matters in de-
lirum, and no wonder; Cleone was a
great favorite, and had many admirers.
You shall tell ME about it as we drive
up: Here is my carriage, take seat, :"
and much to his own surprise Ellen
found himself seated among the luxur-
ious violet cushions, his trunk strapped
to the back of the brett. Mrs. COTE
seated at his side and the road open
before them to Dovesdale. But it was
not hard to be resigned to such stu
alton, and weakness helped the chang
ing landscape to divert him even from
the pain of thinkig and talking of Cle-
one Trefford. The brooks wound their
silver threads through the green after
math of the fields, the cascades gilt
tered on the hill-sides, the skv was
lapis lazuli, and the blue distances ev-
or beckoned them on. So at length
they came to Dovesdale.
A handsome gray nansi on hung
with green vines, all the native beauty
OF the spot carefully preserved by the
gardeners art, while glowing beds of
choice exotics, statues, and fountains
added greater charms. Mrs. Coffee
was proud of Dovesdale, as well she
might be-.
And proud of Hope Devon. She
showed a happy proprietorship of
this brown-eyed, dimpled, contented
girl, who was neither a belle nor a
beauty. but simply domestic in her
tastes, and was ever ready to make 4
tart for tea, or read aloud in the domes-
tic circle. as circumstances ordered.
She was so finely balanced, so healthy,
50 rcstful in her atmosphere, that DR..
Robert Ellen never took the trouble to
really think about her during the three
weeks he spent at Dovesdale. He SIM
ply enjoyed her presence, her pleasant
face. her sweet voice, her whole har-
moniousness. In thousand kind
ways she ministered to his weakness of
mind and body. Her friendliness,
frank as light itself, comforted and
soothed him, until nature and Mrs.
Cotfee's tact rendered him sound in
body and almost in mind. One sharp
application was needed, however, to
complete the latter.
The melancholy which hung about
this strong and handsome young fellow
was very becoming, it seemed pity to
dispel it; but his wise friend did not
falter in the duties of her administra-
ton;
He was about to depart, his visit be-
ing at an end, when he referred to his
sorrow as incurable.
Had she proved unworthy of my
love could forget her: but what can
cure grief at the loss of one so devoted
to her duty?'
devotion to her duty! Fiddlesticks!
Dear Rob, excuse me. but the truth is
that vainer, more exacting, more
selfish creature than Cleone Trafferd
never existed. 1t is time you knew the
truth. She married that old Shylock
for his money, and wouldn't have mis-
sed it for any thing. You are one of
half dozen dcluded victims mourning
over the loss of her pale-blue eyes and
blonde hair, one tenth of which wasn't
her own, 1 assure you. Why will men
Always think light-haired women an
gels? As for Cleone Trafford, she was
thirty if she was q day. She had
angled for old Cresus until she got
him; and she never had anymore idea
OF marrying you, a poor doctor, than
she had of marrying her fathers coach
man."
With this gigantic flea in his ear,
and offended for life with Mrs. Coffee.
as he believed, our hero started for the
city. But growing vitality gave him
vigor and discretion. He pronounced
himself fool before there came the
friendliest and unconscious letter from
Dovesdale.
'Busy as you may be, you must not
forget to come to us for a visit of a
night at least on Wednesday. We are
to have a little party to welcome a
friend of Hopes"
He smiled ANONYMOUSLY until reading
the following sentence. Then a cloud
began to gather on his brow. A friend
of Hopes?-of course lover. He had
never dreamed of such thing; but of
course thee was no reason why Hope
should not Save lover. She was
pleasing and good. He thought of her
warm brown eyes, her sunshiny smile,
her kind, magnetic hand that had
! cooled his brow and soothed his nerves..
Only the day before he had stopped at
a store to purchase French print of
lively peasant girl with u face like
Hope Devon's. He had pinned it over
his dressing table, and had meant,i in a
few days, to write and tell Mrs. Coffee
that he had a photograph of her favor
ite.- He crushed his hat over his eyes
and strobe modify down the street.
Unconscious where he was going, he
was arrested at sight of a gloved hand
becoming crom carriage. Mrs. Coffee!
"You have my letter? Be sure and
come on Wednesday,. Hope will be
glad to see you. Not coming? Why
not?' searching his face with her
shrewd, kindly eyes.
He had certainly no presentable rca-
| son for refusing He had become CON-