Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1886-07-22
A TALE THAT is TOLD.

| H0 siOIy VI ~ illCs 1lNo iOSNSi ~"
faithfully recorded? The outward
I pleasures and troubles, the visiblesuc.
cesses and failures, these may be duly
chronicled; but was ever pen found
capable of tracing the throbbings Of
the heart, the longings of the soul,
the inner conflict, with its secret vic
tories and defeats, the pleasures Of
hope, the terror of fear, or the agoniz-
ing anguish of despair.
Sitting tonight by my lonely fire.
side, all the hot ardor of youth de-
parted and gone with the friends Of
that time, ! fold my ringless hands
on my lap and dream of the days that
are no more.
Forty years have glided by since
that bright summer evening, but can
still see myself as if it were some other
person, standing in the rose-covered
door, anxiously watching the bend in
the road; for my father has gone to
the station TO meet my only sister,
who has for the lat two years been In
school at Paris. ~
had not once seen her during that
time, and am totally unprepared for
the marvel OF beauty who, lightly step,
ping from the chaise, greets me enthu-
siastically as "dear old Nell"
Ivy was always pretty child, but
now she is a lovely maiden, fair as a
lily, 1.-THE as sylph, sweet and fascin-
ating as siren. Lively and bright
she is, too, chatting gaily all the way
to her room, and arrived there,
placing me in a chair, she kneels
down before me and placing her little
hands, one on either side of my face,
she says: Papa whispered me a Sc
cret about you, Nellie; Is it true?"
eyes, Ivy, it is true" / answer,
thankful that her hands partially hide
my bushes, for my engagement to
Arthur Grey, though six months old
sstill too precious thing to be spoken
OF lightly.
"Lst me see," went on Ivy, in her
soft musical tones, smooth and flow
ing as French woman's, "were not
those the Greys who took the hall
Just before Ileft Dilbourne? All, what
| O petite was then--a mere baby. But
! have come back to you a grown wo-
man, Nellie, anxiously eager for a lover
| OF my own"
The evening was spent in talking
over old times, recounting changes
that had taken place, and looking for
ward to new pleasures in the future,
and the next day Ivy saw my lover.
He walked from church with us, had
luncheon at the vicarage, and when
the afternoon service was over insist
ed upon taking us up to the hall.
| After dinner we three went into the
garden and lay upon the grassy banks
of the river, Arthur reading TO us the
while from Paradise Lost"
Ivy rested he1 golden head upon my
lap, and unseen by any eyes, Arthur
hand wandered until it found mine,
which it at once covered in its strong,
protecting grasp.
When we reached home | waited
anxiously for Ivy's opinion of my low
| er, which she gave unasked.
"He is charming" she said. al
could find it in my heart to envy you,
Nellie. He is the very handsomest
man have ever SEEM"
1 ha III Hass II 81,
pered as laid my head down on my
| pillow to continue In dreams the hap
pness OF the day.
Before the next Sunday the vicarage
was empty, and Ivy and Iwere or
phans.
When Arthur had asked my fathers
consent to our engagement it had been
| given on the express condition that
we would not be married until | had
completed my 21st year, for he said a
girl hardly knew her own mind until
that age.
! When, without a word of warning
| he was taken from us, resolved to
keep my promise and for the interven-
ing year went with Ivy to live with a
sister of our father whom we had nev-
er seen.
She was the wife of struggling So
licitor living on the Clapham road and
had five young children of her own.
She received us kindly, but as if she
took a great responsibility in taking
charge of two grown-up young ladies,
whose previous lives in a pretty coun-
try vicarage might have untitled them
for the dull, monotonous routine of a
middle-class in q London suburb.
After a few days Ivy and | decided
that We must in some way, at least
| partially, try to earn our own living,
for we saw only too plainly that our
| aunt could i'll afford the additional
expense which we must be to her.
| Walking one day in Kensington park
we came to this decision, and then
arose the question, what could we do?
Just then a well-known figure pass.
ed across the end of gravel path We
were walking, and merely saying hur.
riedly, Nellie, there is Arthur Gray"
Ivy darted from my side in pursuit oil
the retreating figure, and in a moment
returned with my lover at her side.
"NeIlie would have let you go by"
she said, "and then what would have
happened?"
81 should have had to 60 back to
your aunt, who sent me here after you,
and to have begged her permission to
await your return there"
After walking for an hour through
some OF the most secluded walks Of
the park, during which time Ivy and
Arthur had most of the conversation
to themselves, my happiness being toe
great to allow OF speech, we turned
our steps homeward. My aunt re
| quested Arthur to stay for tea, which
he did, and when he left promised to
call again next time he was in London
That night, when we retired to oul
room, Ivy was not so talkative as us
ual, but before we lay down she put
her arms around my neck, and leanin.
her cheek against mine she said: mel
lie, / wonder if he had seen me before
which of us he would have chosen"
/ stroked her soft cheek with my
hand, drawing her nearer me as / die
so, and wondering why such precious
GIFT had been bestowed upon me, who
seemed so little worthy of it.
Time went on, and every second OF
third day brought me q letter from
Arthur.
My aunt and agreed that Ivy should
undertake the education of our littl,
cousins, thus saving the expense O
their schooling, and Isoon obtained {
situation as daily governess to a tamil,
; living in the South Lambert road.
also procured some additional pu
pills for music and singing in the eve
nings.
was very busy, but very happy, al
my labors were lightened by the pros
pect of the bright future in store TO
rue; through all the drsary monotony
Of teaching ran a vein of unalloyet