The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1886-12-04

again she went riding, lying quietly. her
nodding head still forever. She had passed
out of that strong wind of Providence
which had tossed her so hard, into the
eternal calm. She rode past the post-office
on her way to the little green graveyard,
and never knew nor cared whether there
was letter for her or not. But the bell
tolled, and the summer air was soft and
sweet, and the little funeral train passed
by; and may be there was one among the
fair, wide possibilities of heaven.
The first day on which Fidelia gave up
going to the ,post-ofiice, Lily began going
in her stead. In the morning Fidelia
looked up at her pitifully from her pillow,
when she found that she could not rise.
''You'li have to go to the office, Lily"
she whispered; FAN you'd better hurry, or
you'll be late for the mail"
That was the constant cry to Shich the
poor girl had to listen. 1t was always:
"Hurry, hurry, or you'll be late for the
mail"
Lily was sweet, healthy young thing
but the contagion of this strained faith and
expectation seemed to seize upon her in her
daily tramps to the post-office. Sometimes
going along the road, she could hardly b.
lievs herself not to be the veritable Fidelia
Almy, living life over again, beginning a
new watch for her lost lovers letter. She
put her hand to her head to see if it nodded
She kept whispering to herself: "Hurry,
hurry, or you'll be late for the mail"
Fidelia lay ill week before she died, and
the week had nearly gone, when Lily flew
home from the Office one night, jubilant
She ran in to the sick woman 90, Aunt
Fidelial' she cried, the letters come!n
Fidelia had not raised herself for days.
but she sat up now erect. All her failing
forces seemed to gather themselves up and
faSl and beat, now the lifeward wind for
them blew. The color came into her cheeks
! her eyes shone triumphant "Ansels-
lettern
Lily sobbedr fright out in the midst of her
joy: 80, poor Aunt Fidelial poor Aunt
Fidela! | didn't Think forgot | was
awful cruel It's letter from Valentine.
He's boon sick. The folks wrote, but they
put on the wrong State-Ma Massachusetts, in
stead of Vermont. He's comm right home,
an he's goin' to stay. He's goin' to settle
here. Poor Aunt Fidelia! l didn't think"
Fidelia lay back on her pillow. "You
dear child" she whispered, you won't
have to-"
Valentino Rowe came the morning of the
day on which she died. She demanded to
see him eagerly.
YOU'RE a-goin' to settle here amt you2"
she asked him. Don't you go away again
before you're married; don't you do it. 1t
amt safe trustin' to letters; there's slips"
The young man looked down at her with
tears in his honest eyes. ''rll settle here
sure" said he. Don't you worry. I'll
promise you"
Fidelia looked up at him, and shut her
eyes peacefully "The dear childln she
murmured.
Along the middle of the afternoon she
called Lily. She wanted her to put her
head down, SO she could tell her something.
Them dresses" she whispered, up
stairs. You'd better take 'em an use 'em.
You can make that white one over for a
weddin' dress. An you'd better take the
covers off the things in the parlor when
you're married, an'-eat the plum-cake."
Near sunset she called Lily again. 'The
evenin' mail" she whispered. cts time
for it. You'd better hurry, or you'll be
late. l shouldn't be-a bit-surprised if the
letter came tonight"
Lily broke down and cried. 30, dear,
poor aunty !" she sobbed. The awful pitt
fulness of it all seemed to overwhelm her
suddenly. She could keep up no longer.
But Fidelia did not seem to notice it,
She went on talking. "Ansel Lennox-
promised he'd write when he went away,
an he said had come again It's time for
the evenin' mail. You'd better hurry, or
you'll be late. He-promised he'd write,
an'"-she looked up at Lily suddenly; a
look of triumphant resolution came into
her poor FACET amt goiM to gipe it up
gst."-Aary q. Wileins. in Harper's Bazar.