Wichita eagle., 1888-02-15
bent on remaining.

| ears, ruElOr JnaG FRANK aaylles, my SCH
appointed lord and master, was engaged to a
young and beautiful Lady in the city. 1t was
dreadful blow to my precious hopes and
plans, though for long time battled against
crediting the report. Hadn't Frank told me
that he would never look about for wife,.
| that l was the only little lady who should
bear his name! Didn't he write me regu-
larly every fortnight, commencing his letters
''Dear little Mrs. Haynes" ard telling me to
be faithful to him! And-and-would he do
| this if he was engaged! No, not bit OF 1t!
! Some one had maliciously lied about him,
! had manufactured the story from their own
wicked Imagination. l would not believe 1t,
though the whole world stood up before me
and testified to the truth.
AS if to reward me for my faith, and set
NV preiudiced little mind to right, the next
| coach set Frank down at our door. He
| thought he must come and see his little wife
once more, he said, as | went timidly forward
to meet him. though he thought it very
/ bad taste in me to grow at such rapid rate
/ He was afraid I'd grow out Of my engage
ment; he should have to put loaf of hot
bread On my head to keep me within bounds
/ We had been engaged two years. was II
years old, and head taller than | was at TO-
/ He was going to Europe to stay three or four
years What would l be when he returned |!
He did not dare to think He believed would
! be as tail as he by that time. Wouldn't II
Il hoped SO" l answered, tartly, thinking
the while of the story Of the engagement.
"Whewl You are taking on the airs of a
fine young lady already, my little Phebe," he
answered, laughing heartily. 'You wouldn't
/ give me one of your brown curls today if my
heart should break for it, would you!'
''No, have none to spare.n
''Not one! Why!"
'"Causen-
''Cause whatgn
! "Because she has heard strange reports of
! you Frank" broke in my mother, mischiev-
ously ''She hasn't any idea of letting you
rob her of her curls while she doubts your
sincere allegiance to her. She is a lady of
spirit, you see"
''On my faith she is" he exclaimed, gayly,
his blue eyes upon my face. And trow I'm
in love with her for it. Never mind reports,
/ my little lady"
answered only by curl Of my lips, while
he reached out his hand to draw me to a seat
upon his knee.
NO, won't sit there!' l cried, pushing
away his hand, while tears, which had been
crowdlng their way into my eyes, gave a
sudden dash down my burning cheeks. ''rli
never sit there again, never!'
"My dear little Phebe!"
There was real pathos in his rich, manly
voice, a quick, penetrating, surprised look il
his clear, blue eyes as he uttered these words,
followed by a rapid, wondering expression
of tenderness, as he repeated them.
Cd
your
| stole quietly away from out of the house,
with that fervent benediction lying fresh and
deep upon my childish heart, and threw my
self down in the shade of the old orchard
trees and sobbed out the heaviness that
pressed upon my spirit. For hours lay there
in the mellow September sunshine, brooding
over the little romance that had so silently
and strangely grown into the woof of my al
most baby life. wept before my time for
the delicious griefs that forever cling to a
sweet and conscious womanhood- So.
When l returned to the house Frank had
taken his leave, but in my little work basket
he left small pearl box, which contained a
plain gold ring. Did l wear it! Are you a
woman, reader, and ask it?
'Phebe, Phebel mother says come down
stairs. There is a gentleman in the parlor
who wishes to see you"
Tho words broke harshly into my pleasant
dreams which ! had been weaving all the
long golden July afternoon. in the unbroken
stiffness of my chamber. At my feet, upon
the carpet, with its leaves rumpled and
crushed, lay my neglected Virgil in close
proximity to a huge Latin dictionary, while
upon my lap, i'll a wrinkied condition, my
sewing was lying, with a needle hanging by
a long line of thread, nearly to the floor, as
if escaped luckily from round of monoto-
nous hemming, which as yet boasted but two
or three stitches at It's commencement.
''Who can it be that wishes to see meT l
exclaimed. rising hastily and calling after
my little 6-year-old brother: "Who is it,
Charlier
Don't know; it's somebody. Mother says
come down"
''Who can il be!" An hour since had
seen a gentleman with heavily bearded face
come up the walk, but / was too busy with
my dreams to notice him very partic ularly
Sail, as | recalled his face and figure and his
quick. springinS step, there seemed some
thing strangely familiar in them. Who
could it be? My heart heat rapidly. Surely
l had seen that face and form before, and
name that was singularly dear to me trem-
bled upon my lips-'Frank Haynes"
But ] could not go down to meet him,
though was summoned thousand times l
did not wish to see him; why should l!
There was no occasion for it. | was not the
foolish little girl of ten summers whom he
had left five years ago in short frockS and
curlS, but little grown woman instead No
| was not the same. | would not go down.
Besides, a sudden headache was nearly blind
ing me. Mother could not ask it of me when
l was hardly able to sit up But what would
he Think, Would he care9 Would he still
remember tenderly the little Mrs Haynes of
five years ago?
Little! repeated the word as stood be-
accurate picture of myself A slender, pass
able form; q dark, clear complexion; large
gray eyes; a mouth whose redness seemed to
have robbed the cheeks of their color; white
teeth; broad forehead, but not high; large,
heavy braids of chestnut brown hair, was the
likeness framed before my eyes turned
away with sigh, and glanced down at my
hand Upon the third finger of the left was
a plain, gold circlet The hot blood rushed
into my cheeks as | looked at it. would
wear it no longer. He should never know
that l had worn it at all Just then nv
brother came again to the door of my room,
CRYING out a new message:
Mother says little Mrs. Haynes is wanted
down stairs"
Il have a terrible headache, Charles.
Please tell mother so,n and sank down upon
chair close by the window, and leaned my
head upon a chair handle.
Dear, dear II they would but forge