The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1886-02-17

ing the consultations on moonles;
nights. / know Ostrander by hear
now; think l shall recognize hin
when we are disembodied spirits
Lena and Mr.. Lowell go with US te
choir lettings, and the sunset dips
in a moment throught the windows
and makes the painted saint in the
chancel smile. But the old tunes
have lost their sweetness We sing
the same airs, we stroll in the same
paths, the stars that We have watch
ed swing in the same orbits; what
Is it that has changed Am tired
of the role | have assumed in a
spirit of mischief? have heard il
was dangerous to play with fire. Ii
seems to me that l should like to go
away for little and calm the per
turbation of spirits that destroys me.
have done my part bravely, though
say it; but even the brayest come
away wounded. In teaching Lena
10 love Ostrander, have | not learn
ed too much myself? | am glad
that vacation does not last forever.
What year of the world and what
day of the month is it, | wonder
Last night we were lettering in the
library at dusk, looking over Mr..
Lovell's illustrations, for storm was
coming up to spoil our outdoor
sports. Uncle Aristotle called Mr..
Lowell away, and | strolled to the
music room, leaving Ostrander and
Lena alone. l had just touched the
first chord, and whether the interval
was short or long | do not know,
out that thrilling chord of Donizetti
was the last thing | heard until |
drew a long breath, and some one
sobbed in divine antiphony, my
love, nv love; speak to me, my
love p 1t was Ostrander's voice,
and l had been lightning-struck.
But it was only a shock, and | am
up and alive to-day. Was that bolt
sent to make the revelation to me of
Ostrander's regard? He does not
know that l understood, and there
is yet a choice between two ways
left me-either to accept happiness
at Lena's expense, or to marry Mr..
Lowell. Will it wrong him g? Once
when | told him that | had no love
for him, he vowed he could make
me love him. Must | let MIN try ?
By and by Ostrander's love will re-
turn to its true channel. All me !
if it were right to love and be loved,
how sweet the days might prove.
Ostrander is swinging in the ham
mock on the veranda. Mr.. Lowell
is in the garden waiting co waylay
me. Stay why should go? Why
should | choose Lena's happiness
instead of Ostrander's Is it thst
in choosing his l am purchasing my
own?
Ten years lqter.-How yellow my
old diary has grown! The perfume
of that dear faded summer is waited
from every page | found it to-day
in trunk Of old family letters and
papers among the effects of my late
husband, my Lowell. How blind
we women are found something
else there, too-this package of let
tiers from Lena to him, written be-
fore Mr.. Lowell illustrated Uncle Ar
istotle's book. There had been
some love-passages between them, it
seems, that he did not choose to
continue. This was why Lena for
got her missions and ragged schools
to follow pleasure with US. She
loved Mr.. Lowell How plain it all
is to-day; a bit of wisdom that
reaches me ten years too latel Here
is q violet-colored purse she netted
for him ; it should have been blue
blue is the color of love here is a
book mark, woven in a pretty paro-
dy, with her own hair, Life is
short, but love is long
Is she happy, | wonder, in her
country parish, with her children
and the Rev. Amos Greatheart? /
mean to run down there and see if
l have indeed spoiled more lives
than my own.
Sunday.-How odd it seems to be
back again to Uncle Aristotle's old
house, The same pictures on the
walls. the same books in the library
even his own book on the Andes
in its place-and the Rev. Amos
in his armchair. 1t is
4 little heaven below, in spite of all
Lena does not miss anything she |
has proved that first love is not al |
ways best loye. The orchard trees
.eem like old friends. and the honey
;uckle at my window sends upward |
bouquets of perfume that almost
make me homesick Mr.. Greatheart !
s swinging the baby in the ham
mock.
II shall bring an Old friend home
% tea, Lena love-" / hear him say
% her. | shall go to hear him preach |
his afternoon in the old chapel /
where we used to sing the fugues
md chants.
Euening.-A shower came up dur
ng the afternoon service. I waited
n the porch for Mr.. Greatheart till
he little congregation dispersed.
rhe lightning coruscated on the edge
If the clouds, and the resonant thun-
Ter made music among the hills,
ike ''horns of Elfiand family blow
ng" As l stood looking out a step
lrew near. "Mr Greatheart,n re-
II shan't mind the rain, if
Tou wish to start.
Itreminds me-" said voice that
vas surely not Mr.. Greatheart's--"it
eminds me of another thunder
torn which struck in our neighbor-
lood. Do you recall it, Mrs. Low
II ?n
"Mr. Ostranderw l cried, facing
i'm. us ityou? l hardly expected
uch surprise"
Il might ask is it really you?
ut these shadowy eyes assure me
ven your dimples have not lost
heir cunning nothing of you that
9th fade How many years is it
ince we used to come here and sing
way the sunset hours? Ten? 1t
Jas on my lips then how / loved
ou the night you were lightning
truck. Shall tell you now"