Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-11-17
TOO LATE.

1t at all" The speaker was 0 tall, graceful girl of about 20, with a clear cut, beautiful face, grave, sweet eyes of deep hazel, a broad, | white brow, and waving brown hair. "What can he mean9'
 It was the twentieth time, at least, that Florence Grahame had repeated these words during the past fifteen minutes, and she was no nearer the solution of the matter which puzzled her than she had been before. Sud- denly she arose from her seat by the window of the pretty sitting room and went into the room adjoining, where little woman of 30 or thereabout, with large round blue eyes and fluffy yellow hair, was quietly sewing.
 ''Grace," she said, addressing the little woman before her, ''please read this and favor me with your opinion as to it's mean ing. I must confess that it is entirely be- yond my powers of comprehension" Grace, or Mrs. Harding, was Florence Ora hame's sister and nine years her senior; but being childish in disposition she was accus- toned to defer to Florence and Charles Hard ing, her husband, i'll everything. It was very seldom that she was consulted on 0 sub ject of any importance, and consequently she fully appreciated this opportunity of dis playing her wisdom. She took up the letter which Florence had placed on the table at her side, and this is what she read:
 
 made, which, pardon ma if say I think might have been made some time ago with more justice to me- can do nothing but release you from an engagement which am heartily sorry ever eX- iSted, Very truly, JOHN MACoMBER.
 "WellH' said Florence, impatiently. "When did you receive this exceedingly strange epistle?" asked her sister.
 About twenty minutes ago, and can as sure you that I am utterly unable to account for its meaning"
 "Have you quarreledp' asked Grace.
 "No; there has not been the slightest dis. agreement between us" "Florence. John Macomber is a sensible man. He would not act in this manner with out some cause"
 Little Mrs. Harding took up the letter again and read it through. "What does he mean by saying that you have made an avowalf' she asked. 'That is just the question was endeavor. | ing to answer when asked for your assist | ance" answered Florence. "Charlie will understand it, am sure,' said Grace. "We will ask him when he comes home this evening""
 'We will do nothing of the kind," replied Florence. "Charlie's power for discovering the meanings of puzzling epistles is doubtless unlimited, but have no desire to let every
 
 with these words she turned and walked tc the window on the opposite side of the room "Florence!n
 "Well, Grace, what have said to shock you? Was it my remark in reference tc Charlie?n
 Ut was not what you said about Charlie, , answered Mrs Harding, "though am sorry you will not allow me to tell him about this letter, as I am sure he would understand it, , she added with wifely pride. II was sur, | prised to hear you say that you had been jilted.n
 | II suppose that is the correct word"
 "I don't believe that you suppose anything of the kind, and if you do you are very fool | ish."
 ''What else is there left for me to thinkp said Florence, turning suddenly. "He has | left me in a manner which justifies mo il thinking so."
 "Florence," said Mrs Harding, rising and | going over to her sister who was standing by the window with troubled eyes and cold | hard expression on her face Florence | don't you think some one may have written | John Macomber a letter in your name ask ing him to release you from your engage | menta"
 Ut is just possible" said the girl slowly.
 ''It is more than possible; it is probable At least you should give him the benefit o1 the doubt. am certain that he loves you devotedly, and he would not have deserted | you in this manner without some reason"
 But who could have written him such C | letter as you speak of2' ''Some one who desired to separate you two Florence, in his letter John refers tc an avowal which he says you have made He certainly would not have done so had he not been under the impression that you haG made it. That avowal caused him to write this letter. You say that you have not writ ten to him; then it is clear some one else has written in your name."
 "You are right, Grace It is strange that I did not think of that before. Some one has endeavored to part us, and I fear has sue ceeded."
 "Why? You have only to show this note tc John, and all will be we'll"
 "A very easy method of settling the affair if it were only possible. Unfortunately MT Macomber left the village this evening"
 ''That Is unfortunate. Who told youF'
 ''The boy who brought me this letter. thought when he handed it to me that it wa. note explaining the suddenness of his de parture."
 s'Perhaps he left his address with some O his friends"
 "He has very few friends in the village and 1t IS not likely that he would have ac quainted any of them with his plans, leaving hurriedly as he did"
 "Never mind. I am sure that you vii hear something from him soon."
 Mrs. Harding had gone back to her sea and resumed her sewing. Presently she said cheerily;
 Florence, you must take your walk a usual this evening. You must not think 0 this affair too much, or when John come back he will find that you have lost all o your color"
 "He will never come back" answered th girl, II feel it-I know it.'
 She went slowly ts her room, and taking photograph from drawer looked at it ten derly and sadly. It was the face of 0 yer, handsome man; and as her eyes dwelt on tn noble brow and proud mouth, sob after sol shook her form, and she cried aloud in tn bitterness of pain:
 "Ohl John, John, have you gone out of m. life forever2'
 Two years passed-years fraught with sor row for Florence Grahame. Death had com into the Harding household and robbed it o its stay and support-Charles Harding Grace, overcome with grief, after her hus l bo5 Fol iu+o