The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1886-09-04


would love me if I had come to false
teeth and"
Penfeld stopped his ears and curled
up OF the bench, for there had come the
sound of loving exclamation and kiss
that had stopped the sweet mouth he had
thirsted to press. Soon he tried TO rise
and crawl away, but he could not stand.
and sank again trembling upon the seat.
81 have thought it all over" Thomas
Spencer was saying, and I know it is
best for us not to be married now. You
are dear little girl to be so willing to
take poor man and the cares and labors
that you must have as his wife; but there
are many considerations. 1t would gnaw
my heart out to see you growing thin and
pale under the care of old people, and
farm work besides; and he stood re-
spectfully away from her, though still
holding her hands, as the miserable man
behind the trunk of the tree could see
"there might bel should hope there
would be il we were married--little chill
dren, and-no! we must wait. thought
it all over last night as l sat by father
during the long hours as he lay groan-
ing; it took me all night to make up my
mind, but know it Is best"
Eyes, Tom," came the cheerful an
swer, "you remember the words of the
song" and the last line of the sweet re-
frniY1 emma ont ~, ha- eoff trablo HWa'd
better bide vice." and ended in pa
thetic little sound between laugh and
sob, Then her voice grew stronger,
"We will bear it, Tom, until it seems
best for me to come to you, and we will
know that each is strong and true. We
can see each other when we are at church
| and when others are around, but"
"What do you mean, Jennie?" said
Tom in troubled voice. "Why can l
not come here the same as ever? No one
will object. Every one knows we are
engaged. II l can not see your face to
cheer me-" You can see me, Tom,"
was the gentle reply; "bnt don't you
know =" Jennie was proceeding with
some difficulty, when Tom exclaimed,
"You are right, my darling, as you al
ways are. We will have no more meet
ings here, but can come and call upon
your mother, can't ~"
"Of course you can," was the merry
| rejoinder. "I am sure mother will be
glad to see you occasionally"
Pepfeld, lying with his face buried in
his hands, could see in his imagination
the arch look as Jennie smiled through
her tears at her lover, and, summoning
ali his strength, he staggered to his feet
and went with slow, unsteady steps up
the hill to the house. Entering by the
front door, he made his way up stairs, I'M
observed, and threw himself upon the
bed. Did Mr. Penfeld find you this
afternoon?" he heard the high tones of
Mrs. Brown say to her daughter as she
came in an hour later. "No, mother"
was the quiet reply. After a pause Jen-
ME spoke again. "Mother, there's bad
news for ME. | met Tom down in the
lot, and he told me his father fell from a
load of hay yesterday and broke his hip"
Then came the ordinations of the
matron, the grave replies of the daugh-
ter, more inquiries and regrets emphatic
ally expressed by the mother. at does
seem strange" declared the elder woman,
that Tom should have ali this troubled
1t takes pretty strong faith in Provi-
dence not to question why the only son
who has cared enough for the old folks
to stay at home with them should have
such luck"
"Tom does not complain, mother" said
Jennie in a low voice; {" but l know it is
nearly killing him." and the girl wept
audibly.
Penfeld sat up on the bed and looked
out of the window and into the depths of
the blue sky beyond, as if seeing far into
the future. He came down stairs with a
red spot OF either cheek, and told then
all that he had decided to return to the
city the next day. He made out liberal
check for the few weeks board still due
Farmer Brown, gave his wife heavy gold
piece as remembrance, and asked her
permission to give Jennie the same.
Money is very prosaic," he said with d
smile to them, 6" but it is very conyen-
lent"
"Ah, Mr.. Penfeld, more convenient
than you will ever know" answered Jen-
ME, with vivid blush.
when you are married" he said to
the young girl at parting, II hope you
will think of me as dear friend, and
one who wished you every happiness in
life"
"He never looked back" said Jennie
at the doorway, as Penield i'll company
with her father, who carried some of his
luggage, disappeared around the bend in
the road on the way TO the station.
John Penfield's sister was grieved not
to find him as we'll as his letters had led
her to expect One day after he had be-
come so much worse that he could no
longer attend to business, ne called her
to him and told her OF his disappoint
ment oe the summer.
Il was getting we'll until then," he
said; " but perhaps it is all right as it is.
Carrie, you and Bob are rich. Would
You feel bad If, after leaving my other