The Delaware ledger. (Newark, Del.) 1879-19??, 1888-11-17

lizard said he was going to the
mountains in a few days, and l
wouldn't know where to direct my
letter. If he really wants to write to
me he knows my address. Perhaps
it was only just his politeness, after
all. City folks are so queer They
seem to think they must say lots of
polite things they don't mean one
bit. 1 don't think it really is polite
at ALL"
And, with a sudden, unaccount-
able feeling of depression, Amy be-
gan dusting and tidying the little
parlor.
1t was the tiniest little room, but
natural taste and love of the beau
tiful had enabled the girl to give it a
touch Of real elegance.
"There's letter for you, Amy"
said DR.. Fellowes that evening, as
he sat down to tea. 81 believe I've
been carrying it around in my
pocket for several days. It's.such a
new thing for you to have letters
that I came near forgetting all about
it."
"Oh, papa, how could you p ex-
claimed Amy reproachfully, as she
snatched at the letter held out across
the tea table.
"Why, child, were you expecting
it?' exclaimed DIR. Fellowes, aston
ished at her eagerness.
"Not exactly expecting it," said
Amy, while her color deepened to a
crimson blush; "but l rather thought
there might be letter for me-"
And she hurriedly tucked it into
her belt, having first seen that the
handwriting was of large, bold,
masculine sort, while the postmark
bore the name of the mountain re-
gion she had heard Mr.. Lorillard
speak OF.
"Well, dear, why don't you read
it now you've got it?" asked Mrs
Fellowes.
"There's no hurry-it will keep /"
said Amy with much apparent care
lessness.
But her apparent carelessness was
very small that evening, and she re-
fused all invitations to a second
supply of anything-even the cup of
tea, for which she had quite a fine
lady's liking and then, with some
murmured words of excuse, she at
last arose and ran away to her own
little room, where she locked herself
in before opening the precious let
ter.
Yes" she exclaimed, looking at
the signature first. "It is from him
He really did mean it, and he has
truly, truly, truly written me a let
ter"
1t was not a very long letter, nor
a particularly interesting or witty
one, considered from literary point
of view but to Amy it was just all
the world, and for that evening, at
least it shut out all the rest of exist
ence. Then came the business of
answering it.
AT first the mere thought of this
appalled, her; but when she began
to write she found it the simplest
thing she had ever done the pen
seemed to move of itself, and Eu-
gene received a packet of the most
delightfully."- natural and girlish con-
versation he had ever known; and
it seemed to him while he read that
he could hear the sweet voice in all
its tones Of airy gayety, laughing
merriment, or subdued tenderness.
"Well," he exclaimed, this is
treat There isn't a girl of my ac-
quaintance, capable of writing such
a charming letter. How pleased l
am to have asked il of her-it was
quite an inspiration"
He answered it as we'll as he knew
how but he was painfully aware
that he had no such delightful epis-
tolary style.
Amy, however, was not critical,
for she found his letters perfect. And
the correspondence proceeded, grad
uall assuming more and more
familiar styly till the tone became
playfully but decidedly lover-like
ON both sides.
Weeks slipped by rapidly Amy
thought the days had never been so
short and before she realized it the
summer was gone.
In his last letter, Eugene had Civ
en- her a new address, saying that he
was about to return to the city very
soon. In that letter he had also
said something more like direct
lovemaking than eve7 before-jome-
thing which had made Amy laugh
and blush when she read it and