Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1888-04-12

!ERY ODD.
1t was an hour later than usual the next
afternoon that Philip pushed back his chair
from the office table preparatory to going
home. He did not acknowledge to himself O
certain sweet excitement that affected him
as he rose to his feet, much less tho cause Of
it; and he laid 1t to ordinary masculine van
ity that he paused moment before a mirror
before he went out
1t was not the same face he used to see in
the glass. His black moustache had grown
heavy and completely hid his rather unar.
tistic upper lip, but it was not that had
changed him SO much. His forehead had
some new lines in it and there was, somehow,
tirmer look about the corners of his mouth;
the youth and freshness that had lasted for
twenty-six summers had given place on tho
twenty-seventh. There was q self poiSe and
suggestion of reserved force in him now that
stood for some very rapid development of
character
As Philip went up tho hill, his quick eyes
caught u glimpse of 'eoman's dress by Mr.
Ellingsworth's gate, and il n few steps more
he could sec it was the shade of blue Bertha
loved Why might it not be Bertha, why
not, except that he was SO eager it should
bel He hurried as much as he dared-how
strongly his heart was beating She might
turn any moment and go into the house. He
tried to think of what he could say to her if
it was she.
Yes, it was Bertha. Her face was turned
away, showing him only the perfect Greek
profile and the uncovered coils of her wonder.
full golden hair. Her hand rested on tho gate
as she looked Off on the hills. How grand her
l.
perb dignity of her face Philip felt guilty
at disturbing her, but it had been so long.
He came quite near, so near that the mag.
netic thrill of her presence touched him moro
deeply, more tenderly, he thought, than Of
old, but she had not turned. He saw the path
of careworn lines across her forehead that
had been as smooth as marble. There was
faded look on her checks, less full than they
used to be, and their exquisite color less
evenly spread. Her hand was winter and
showed its blue veins almost painfully. His
heart ached over her, his proud Bertha. Why
could not God have spared her! He would
rather have died and saved her tho caro- and
suffering that had stricken her lcreliness
Then she turned at the sound of footsteps,
and great wave of tenderness swept over
his SOUL He looked at her so eagerly, SO
gently that it seemed her face mighj soften
little, but it did not, nor was there my mark
of startled surprise at his coming SC suddenly
upon her.
'It is you Philip?' Even her voice was
changed, there was new hardness in it. She
reached out her cold white hand to him.
For moment he did not speak, 1t seemed
as if his heart would break, there was such
stress upon it. And then ho was afraid she
might be ashamed before him, ashamed of
the terrible injustice she had done him,
ashamed of the blot that had touched her
name. But whatever she might have felt,
there was no sign of any emotion on her i'm
passive face
Z" "an6r y0u are the mill owner now," she
said. "How odd it seems" She smiled
graciously, but still he could not speak. He
could only look down at the thin, blue
veined hand he held, and keep back the sob
that trembled on his lips for his lost love.
And that smile and such words Gs those
were all she had for him at last. He had to
look away for strength to speak. He must
think of some commonplace that would not
startle her repose. Ahl there was tho door
way where she had given him the first ardent
caress of his life tine last time hc had talked
with her, the night she forsook him Did
she remember, he wondered? He looked
back at the cold, beautiful eyes, and the
amused smilo yet fingered on her lips.
"YeS, it does seem yery odd"