The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1888-06-30

So great was the surprise occasioned |
by the unexpected appearance of long |
absent friend, that the blood receded
from her face, leaving her pallid as
doping lily.
Simply bowling, she was hurrying by
when he turned and joined her.
"Surely am not mistaken; this is Elsie
Morgan?"
at il, Mr. Russell. Several years have
passed since we have met" she faltered,
as she laid her neatly gloved hand in his
outstre tched one.
A rosy bloom flashed back into her
cheeks, brought there by bis ardent gaze
and the tender pressure her hand re-
ceived while briefly held.
Eyes to my sorrow and regret, long
years have parted us. have searched,
nnavailingly for you ever since my return,
three months ago, after the death of my
father. I can never tell you, convincing
ly, how I have longed for this meeting
have inquired of all our former mutual
friends, but none could tell whittier you
had flown. 1 have searched Philadelphia,
even advertised for you there, and came
to New York few days since, where I
have been continuing the search, when,
to my establishment, find you on my
own cousins steps,"
sis Mrs. Everett your cousin? 1 was
not aware of it, nor had heard of your
fathers death, and your being in Phila-
delphia. You may not know, Mr.. Rus
sell, how changed our circumstances be-
came after you ieft. Our father died,
leaving us destitute when we had sup
posed him wealthy. We have since been
obliged to support ourselves. supply
Mr.. Hemingway, a florist, with flowers of
my own culture. My sister also occupies
her time pro6tably, and so we are ena-
bled to keep together in a very humble
home. called on Mrs. Everett to-day,
to oblige Mr.. Heming way, in order to re-
ceive particular directions about the
floral decorations for an entertainment
she designs giving. 1 am now on my
way home"
MAY not walk there with you? My
delight at this meeting is SO great, can
not part SO soon.''
"But all our friends forsook us when
poverty came p
IF they were SO cruel, they should not
be called friends. l honor you the more
for your brave, independent spirit. Give
me but the opportunity, and I will soon
convince you that am still the same at
heart, faithful and true"
"Is this where you reside?" he asked
when Elsie, after short walk, paused
in front of well-painted house almost
hidden by a graceful wisteria, inter-
mingled around the porch with sweet
scented honeysuckles.
"May I call this evening, to renew my
acquaintance with your mother and sis
ter?'
A bright smile and blushing consent
came in answer.
No common house was that into which
he was ushered when evening came, for
beauty and refinement nestled in every
recess and corner. The portieres were
drawn between parlor and sitting room,
while the glass doors of the greenhouse
also stood sjar.
All was in perfect taste and order,while
violets and pinke, roses and callas, seemed
to smile a welcome to the handsome new
conner.
The air was full of perfume, the rooms
bright in artistic beauty.
Mother and sister greeted with joy one
who had long since been constant wis.,
itor to their home.
They spent an evening of purest pleas
ure, talking over other days, and what
had transpired since their parting.
After this, Russell became daily viz
itor at the e-covered house on the I'M
frequsnted street.
Then followed series of delightful
evenings spent at different places of
amusement, from which both girls had
been 80 long excluded. and as Marjorie
as well as the mother were often invited
to join the party, the cheering effects
were felt by all.
One day Elsie had accepted an invita-
ton to drive in Central Park. 1t was in
May, and the grass was crisp and green,
the birds were singing blithely, and the
very trees were whispering to each other
their delight that 6 the time for the sing.
ing of the birds had come"
AS they rolled along, Richard told his
lovely companion once more how long
and how hopelessly he had searched for
her, after his return.
ST loved you so. my darling, could
not be comforted while ignorant of your
safety. Thank God / found you at last,
and all ask now. to complete my joy, is
the return Of that love and your promise
to be my own sweet wife. Am I pre-
sumptuous in the wish? Will you love
me and be mine, never again to be parted
while both shall live?"
Elsie did not withdraw her hand when
he sought to clasp it, and the bright
smile with which he regarded her, on
lifting her from the buggy, short time
later, told that her answer had been all
he could wish.
That evening Richard obtained a pri-