The weekly sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1886-1887, 1886-11-18
Ii
JUST AFTER THE WAR.
A STORY OF TEIE SOUTH
Written Weekly Berme,
Author of Mss LitNejohn."

row, they have played a mournful
part in her life. 1 think am wiser
to have chosen the old maids fate, for
whatever Of welded happiness is de-
MED me, at least, [ shall escape the
pit-fall which my sisters marriage
brought to her.
The fall of 1873 passes away, and
Christmas comes again, and for the
sake Of the little ones, we make pre-
tence of merriment.
To our astonishment, about ten
days beforehand, Archie drops in
among us. Archie. shabby in appear
ance, care-worn in looks, bearing the
testimony to his wretched, dissipated
life. There is a hunted air about him,
glance in his eye, that seems to de-
fly detection, that agitates me. What
if he, too, by right, belongs to dun
geon O, Heaven. will the clouds
never roll by?
inquire about Delacount, and at
the detested name the old-time shud-
! der seizes my frame
His face darkens, but he replies
carelessly, that he hasn't seen him in
some time. He says nothing Of re-
turning to his former business, what
ever it is, stays indoors a great deal,
and is, to all appearances, perfectly So
Der, SO we finally are agreed, that our
prodigal, tired of riotous living, has
sought the shelter of his fathers house
and this of itself is sufficient for us to
make merry, and be glad at our fes-
tive season.
Even Bells face loses something of
its late serious cast, and resumes a
faint trace of its former joyousness.
The tiny mortals, just learning to lisp
the name of childhood's reverend
friend Sata Claus, are on the tip toe
of expectation, asking Auntie every
moment, els this day Kismas?'
Thus Tuesday before the eventful
day, which falls this year on Thurs
day, finds me head over ears" in work,
making and baking, and eternally
scolding until l know my feelings will
not be in accordance with the harmo-
ny, which ought to prevail ate the
blessed Christmas tide, but our valua-
BILE assistant Hetty has travelling
upon her brain, says, "Miss Belle
done talked so much bout fine places,
she want ter see some too," so has in
formed me, that she must rest, pre-
paratory to leaving for the North
Christmas week. Aunt Peggy happi-
ly can superintend, but lacks her
youthful vigor, SO wishing Hetty would
postpone her excursion until more
convenient season, am in the great
est extremity at the non-fulflment of
this desire.
| At nightfall of this eventful Tues
day, rendered SO by various and sun.
dry attempts to supply the vacancy OF
the efficient Hetty, to the disgust OF
my methodical self, and the by nc
means sweetening effects upon my
high strung temperament, resort fol-
consolation, after many conflicts of the
tongue, in the use of which I consider
myself highly proficient, to the com
fort of my life, and pour out my com
plants into the sympathetic ears Of
my ever. attentive piano.
! I am all alone in the house at this
twilight hour, as mother has gone te
carry some delicacy to sick neigh
Dor, while Belle has undertaken to es
cort the little girls to their first party
and chaperone them while there.
, As my weird chords float out upor
, the air. breaking the solemn stiffness
around, an awful foreboding of coming
| evil takes possession of me, and witt
one last mournful tune. | bring m.
Il performance to close, then turn, ane
good heavens confront a stranger
} hat in hand, standing in the door.
u "Pardon me- he exclaims. in Leon
ards own tones, "for entering SO un
r tremendously, thus frightening you
) but l knocked repeatedly, withou
success, and finding it decidedly colo
i without, ventured to turn the knoll
2 which readily yielded to my touch
. thus boldly admitting the intruder,
: he has shaken my hand, and actually
: in his old boyish style, addressed m
: as simply Priscilla, thus entirely il