The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-01-15

tonl-and 'alive,-come home after
all'these years."
eyes; / am James Milton" He
blocked down at hersin unmoved curl
oslty. Tam JamessAfilton, but ] do
not remember you. ] am come to see
Dorothy once more.
He turned to Dorothy again and
sought,to take her hand. In her mute
terror this poor thing drew it away;
not realizing what she did, she thrust
it for safety into the pocket of the
dress she was wearing. Something
was there! She drew it out. A letter;
an old letter.
James Milton caught sight of the
paper,-taded and yellow;-he darted
forward.
'tAh, yes" he screamed; sit is my
letter-the letter / wrote to Dorothy
long ago.. See, ah, seel it is unread
the seal is not broken, she did not care
enough for me to read it, but if you
were to look within you would see my
name signed there-James Milton. /
wrote it."
A pale and faded look crept into his
face; with gentle courtesy he restored
the letter he had snatched to the pale
girl.
"She was not always kind to me-"
he sighed. "She was older than i; she
laughed at me-" A coldpassion then,
as if worn out with age, crept into his
voice. He was looking at the Doro-
thy smiling coldly from the picture on
the wall. "You would have none of
my gifts; you flung them back in my
face. Yet you lived on my gift-on
my bounty for years, proud Doro-
thy!"
He turned to Guy, who, with a feel
ing that this strange guest would need
his help soon, had stepped to the old
mans side.
II will rest now" he said feebly, Gin
one OF the old rooms. Thanks" He
drank the wine Guy brought him.
"No; not your arm-Dorothy'sl"
Thus the strangest thing N the his
tory of the old house on the Hudson
was the coming of this gentle, strange
old man to dwell in it, this sweet-voic-
ed, strange old man who might have
come out of a lost century, but with
that dreadful look ofyouth undimmed
In his face.
Dolly grew bewildered with the dou-
BILE life she led. He would ask her to
put on the rich dress of the Dorothy
of his young love, and when wearingit
she sat beside him, he would hold the
unread ~letter-the letter whose seal
had never been broken-and gaze at
her with his young faithful eyes, of
half q century's tears undimmed.
The tender young creature used to
declare sometimes that they were two
figures stepped OF from the old tapes
try to play once more the shadowy
farce Ollie.
Guy was gone away now.-angry
with her that she would not share his
life. His ship was in the far-off China
seas, and when his few letters came
they brought the breath of spice and
aloe from the low shores of green
Borneo,-from the slopes oftar Perang,
that and nothing moreno love
no ~relenting.
ri thought / had the first claim to
you," he had said coldly. "You gave
me the right to think so, Dolly"
"Ah, yes" said Dolly, softly; "but
| this claim, O Guy! can you not see?-
1t is older than /. 1t began to thrust
roots into my life before ! was born"
He kissed her and went away, leav-
ing her to live on Hope. But was not
that better than the misery on which
so many live?
1t soon became evident that the
gentle stranger had come to them only
to, die. But it was lovely to see the
pale flame of his blameless life 90 out;
it was like watching the last flower of
| the summer garden fade and die; life
went in sweet decay. The pale flicker
Of sacred oil burnt perfume to the
last. Then, too, the whole household
grew to love him. He had a wonder
full punctilious courtesy, a gentle echo
of speech and caught from a
far-gone time of paint and powder,
of lofty ways and high-fown compli-
ment, sweeping bows with deterrent
glances-musk, music, quick attend
afico-tiie perfect mower OF birth and
! breeding.
One day he brought to their aston
| ished presence an old guitar, upon
| which after that he was forever play
ing-coaxing rather-airs from a
shadowy past-threads OF melody
caught from memory's tangled skein;
they snapped short always, while the
faithful lover explained that Dorothy
was fond of this, or Dorothy would
sing him that; one finger hectoring the
weary string, while he sighed una
~toccata, una toccata," and the very
air smelled sweet with the seringas
of the South.
There was a morning song he often
| sang to an old Russian air.
Sleepcst thou still?
My lutte shall wake thee.
at used to sing it under Dorothy's
window, " he told Dolly rememberingly;