Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-11-17


 her sorrow and to go cheerfully out into the world to battle for herself.
 Today she was standing at the school room window, looking out upon the lawn below with sad, wistful eyes. She wore a long, flowing dress of some thin black material, which fell in folds around the slender, grace fulfigure
 ''WiI my life never be happier than it is nowg' she murmured with a sigh. ''Why has not God blessed me with some of the joy and gladness which he las given to others in RbundanceF'
 Miss Grahameg"
 The girl turned and saw a servant girl standing in the open doorway.
 Miss Grahame, Mrs. Deerhurst would like you to come to the drawing room as sodh as possible"
 ''Let Mrs. Deerhurst know that will be there immediately" answered Florence, and without delay she prepared to obey her en- ployer's bidding. 'She wishes me to sing," she said to herself, as she descended the stairs. 'sI am sorry I am not in the mood for singing for strangers. I wonder if her visitors will remain many daysg'
 As she entered the drawing room, which was partially filled with visitors, Mrs. Deer hurst came forward and said in the soft, sweet voice peculiar to her: Miss Grahame, Mrs. Marston would be pleased to hear you sing. She is very fond of vocal music"
 ''It will give me great pleasure to obige her," replied Florence, going to the piano, which stood open at the other end of the room.
 In few moments her wonderful voice was filling the room with sweet, sad music.
 Oh, fragrant breeze, oh, murmuring trees
 Oh, waving, whispering lines,
 Oh, there to be again with thee,
 My love of olden times!
 As the last low notes died away Florence lifted her head and saw reflected ill a mirror before her the figure and face of John Macomber. With face white to the very lips she turned toward him. Their eyes met for an instant, and scarcely needing Mrs. Marstons murmured words of appreciation, she left the circle of visitors and fled to the schoolroom
 "At last!" she cried, her heart beating joy fully. At last have seen him and now all will soon be well!"
 She felt that she would suffocate if she re- mained within doors, and throwing a thin shawl over her head she went out into the deepening October twilight All was silent save for the rustling of the fallisg leaves and the occasional cry of bird.
 Florence walked on with bright eyes and joyful heart. Turning a sharp curve in the path, she came suddenly upon man leaning against tree and looking moodily upon the ground. It was John Macomber.
 Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw Florence, his old love, standing before him, the color coming and going in her face. His heart gave great bound and then seemed to stand still Lifting his hat, he said, coldly:
 Miss Grahame, believe"
 "Yes," said Florence; and then she added tremulously:
 MT Macomber, I am glad we have met, for I have something to ask you"
 ''If can be of any service, pray command me-" he answered.
 "Wiu you have the kindness to explain this letter. which I received from you two years agoT"
 II think can explain that note without reading it, Miss Grahame."
 1T have never understood it," said Flor ence.
 II was under the impression that it's mean ing was very plain. In that note intended to convey the idea that ill compliance with your wish released you from your engage ment to me-"
 "In compliance with my wishl" she re- peated. ''Then Grace was right. You did receive a letter which you supposed had written"
 II certainly received a letter from you, in which you declared that you had never loved me-"
 "John," she cried, 1T did not write that letter."
 You did not write it2" ''No. never saw it."
 "Florence Grahame, what do you meang'
 II mean that the letter which you received two years ago, and which you supposed was written by me, was forgery"
 "Who wrote it?" "I do not know"
 John Macomber looked long and earnestly into the face Of the girl before him, and he said to himself that truth lay in her eyes and on her face.
 'Then you were trueg' he said slowly.
 "Yes," she answered. and when he turned away without word, forgetful of pride, for getful of everything except that she loved him. she cried out, 'Oh, John, you have ceased to care for me!'
 ''God only knows how I love you!" he said, with his face still turned away. ''Then why do you not speak to me?' Slowly he turned his face, and its deadly whiteness frightened her.
 "Oh, my love-" she cried, "what is ita' ''Hushr' he said hoarsely. II am a mar ried mani"
 For while she looked at him in dazed manner, unable to realize what he meant; then, as comprehension came to her. she stretched out her hands and turned away with long, low cry that told of the death of Q life's bright hope, For while neither spoke How the man | longed to take the slender figure in his arms and murmur loving words of comfort. How | his heart ached to tell her of all the passion ate love and longing that filled him, and of how dull and joyless his life would be with out her.
 But it could not be. Another woman stood between them. Another woman claimed his | loving words and caresses, and he could only stand there in silence, his heart breaking with love and pity for the girl before him. Presently Florence raised her head and said in low, stihed voice, | "Gor
 s'My poor love!" he murmured tenderly. 'Go" she repeated. ''Go, Isay!" and with | out word he left her.-Waverley Magazine 1 Teaching Them a Lesson. Doubtless it was only eccentricity, not lunacy, that ailed the woman who sat oppo- site me in horse car. The front windows were open, and on the platform were several