The Arizona sentinel., 1886-02-27
passengers, not happy bridegroom, but a stern and disappointed man.


 Fifteen years passed, and the village where Alice Graves had lived had pros pered and was fast growing into little town with bright prospects ahead. One autumn evening a tall, grave, middle aged gentleman stalked slowly up the street with his eyes thoughtfully wan dering over the faded old house and its neglected grounds. Pausing where boy was idly swinging on a gate of one of the new houses he said: 'I see the prop erty over there is for sale. Who is the present owner?"
 'Old Mir Landon Graves was the owner, but he's dead now-been dead two ..years-and the place now belongs to his daughter, Miss Alice"
 Miss Alice? You mean Mrs.-Cur- tis?, said the gentleman, hesitating at the last name"
 ''She ain't Mrs. Curtis That's my mothers name," replied the boy.
 And lady who had been standing unseen among the shrubbery came has tily forward. ,e<'
 Miss Alice Graves has never mar ried," she said. "I suppose you must
 
 which got about of her running away with MT. Curtis on the evening she was to have married another It was all a mistake-a-f false report. She merely rode a short distance with him in his gig to, take leave of an old lady of whom she was fond. But the horse was young and skittish, and, taking fright at,rsomething. ran away, throwing them both out People be- lieved it an elopement, until when, some hours after, they were found in the old mill road, Alice badly bruised, and Joe with his leg broken. The man she was to have married be- lieved it and left her without a word. Joe Curtis is my husband now," she added, with smile, ''and Alice Graves, though. she has not lacked offers, has never married. She could not easily get over disappointment like that
 ''But why was not he-why was not Mr. Warner informed?" inquired the stranger, in voice of such oppressed vehemence that the boy turned and looked at him wonderingly.
 "Alice would not allow it. She was as proud as he; and when she heard that he had gone she said: If he could believe such thing of me it is well that we should part Let him gor'
 The stranger made no reply, only pulled his felt hat lower over his brow and Mrs Curtis added: If you would like to inquire about the place, you will find Miss Graves at home. l saw her upon the porch a few minutes ago."
 She watched him as he went slowly down the street.
 ''He thinks that I did not recognize him. As if would have said what I did about Alice to any one but Gilbert War neri And I can see that he has not for gotten her either. Ah, hope it may all come right now"
 When Gilbert Warner knocked at the door of the old Graves house, it was opened by fair, graceful, sweet-look- ing woman, in whom he had no diff cuIty in recognizing his old love, Alice. But it was not until he stood in the full light of the parlor lamp that she knew him: and then she involuntarily drew back step or two, and looked at him with white face, as though she had seen ghost.
 "Alice-don't you know mep" he said, holding out his hand.
 ''I know you; but why do you come here?" she answered, as though striving to be cold and proud, while her voice faltered and her eyes filled with tears.
 ''I came to ask forgiveness" he re- piled. Until to-day I thought that you had wronged me-and you did, AL ice, in not letting. me know of my wretched mistake. So many years of hap piness lost to us both! Oh, Alice, is it too late? May we not yet be as happy as we once expected to be?'
 It took some time, some pleading, some humiliation on his own part, for high-minded Alice had been deeply wounded by his too ready belief in her desertion of him. But still her heart had never really swerved from its first real love, no more than had his own; and when Gilbert Warner left the little town it was as he hoped to do fifteen years previous-with Alice Graves as his bride.-C Chicago Tunes.