Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1888-03-09

pride, or sort of fine reserve had locked
her lips Larry ought to know that she was
above silly firtations. Once, when they met
at Lucy Amory's wedding, when they all
went out into the orchard while the bride
planted a young tree and the guests looked
for four leaved clovers, she had found herself
whether by accident or design she could
not tell-on the grass beside Larry; their fin
gers met on the same lucky clover, their eyes
met above it, and for an instant she had it
on her tongues end to confess all about the
drive and its results, to put pride in her
pocket; but just then Nell Amory called to
Larry.
'Oh, horrid spider-on my arm, Larry!
Kill him quick-do! Oh! obi oh!-I shall
die-I shall faintl"
And that was the end of it.
The old orchard, with its fragrant ounce
bushes, its gnarled apple trees, its four leaved
clovers, was thing of the past cotton
mill roared and Numbered all day long, where
the birds built and the trees blossomed thirty
odd years ago. 1t no longer blossomed ex-
cept in Miss Becky's memory. She had
turned her thoughts to raising plants when
she was left to her own resources, but one
cruel winters night killed all her slips, and
the capital was lacking by which she might
renew her stock. Since then she had gone
out for daily sewing, had watched the sick,
had been in demand for a temporary house
keeper whenever tired matron wished en-
outing; but lately her eyes no longer served
her for fine work, and sewing machines had
been introduced; she was not SO alert In the
sick room as Of yore; she moved more slowly,
and her housekeeping talent was no longer in
request; added to this, the bank where her
little earnings had been growing, one day
e. Ill I I.ell l.. q
her friends had Travelled to pastures new,
some had married away, some had
ignored or forgotten her. As for Larry
Rogers, he had been away from Ply
mouth this many a year. Somebody had
sent him abroad the year after Lucy Amory's
marriage to develope his musical genius. He
had grown into famous violinist, playing
all over the country to crowded houses, be-
fore the finest people in the land. 1t was q
beautiful romance to Miss Becky to read in
The Plymouth Record about our '''gifted
townsman' she did not blame him because
she sat in the shadow, because her life had
been colorless She sang again the old tunes
he had taught her, and made little sunshine
in Eer heart. All of happiness she had ever
known he had brought her. Why should she
complaint? And now she was going to the
Old Ladies' home.
sit isn't exactly what I expected in my
YOUTH" she said to the old doctors widow.
''No; but you'll have a nice room and a
bright fire, and the neighbors will drop in to
see you and make it homelike. Now, there's
old Mrs Gum. Nothing can persuade her
to go to the home. She says it's only gen
teel almshouse after all; and so she rubs
along with what little she can earn and what
the neighbors have mind to send in, and
they have to do it mighty gingerly, too, just
as though they were asking favor of her.
! Lor', she doesn't earn her salt"
~ dare saw returned Miss Becky. CHOW.
| II 1t hadn't been for the rheumatism L could
earn my living for years yet and may be get
! something ahead again; but it seems as if the
| rheumatism laid in wait for the poor and
| friendless"
'You ought to have married when you
were young, Becky" said the doctors widow,
who had forgotten all about Becky's love
affair, and labored under the impression that
she never had chance-an impression which
i matrons are apt to entertain concerning their
single friends Miss Becky had been spend
ing some weeks with Mrs. DR.. Dwight, who
had moved away from Plymouth after her
husbands death. She was there chiefly to
put some stitches into the widows wardrobe,
which nobody else would do reasonably"
that lady's grief having incapacitated her
from holding needle OF giving her mind to
material details of ''seam and gusset and
band" But during the visit Miss Becky had
been seized with her sharpest attacks of
rheumatism, which had kept her in bed for
! weeks, till her wages were exhausted by
drugs and doctors fees 1t was at this time
that she made up her mind to go into the
Home on her return to Plymouth.
Mrs Dwight saw her off at the station.
81 hope you'll find the home cozy," she said,
I outside the car window. "lt's lucky Parson
Amory left you that 500, after all. He
! might have doubled it,"
| Eyes, suppose So" Miss Becky answered
meekly. Perhaps she Was thinking that, if
she were Mrs. Dwight, no old friend of hers
| should go begging for refuge at an aims
house. Perhaps she was thinking of the
pretty, comfortable home waiting for her
| friend, and wondering why their fortunes
were so unlike.
'Write when you reach Plymouth, and let
me know how you're suited" said Mrs.
Dwight, and just then the cars gave a lurch
and left her behind, and Miss Becky turned
, her glance inward. Somebody had taken
| seat beside her.
! 'Your friend was speaking of Parson
, Amory and Plymouth he said. 81 couldn't
| help hearing. was born in Plymouth myself,
but 1 haven't met soul from there these
twenty years. am on my way to look up
my old friends"
''Twenty years is long time answered
! Becky. II am afraid you won't find many
Plymouth
II suppose not-I suppose not. Have you
lived there long"
81? have lived there all my days"
'Good Pm hungry for news of the peo-
! pie. Tell me everything you can think of.
Did Parson Amory leave a fortune? He was
called close Where's Miss Nell married or
: dead? l can see the old place in my minds
eye, and the parsonage under the elms, and
the orchard behind it where Lucy Amory
planted young tree on her wedding day, and
the gown little Becky Thorne wore. By the
way, is she alive? Do you know her?"
Miss Becky hesitated an instant.
eyes" she replied; ~ know her-more or
less She's alive"
"And married? She must he 60 odd; she
was pretty creature, such-I suppose they
are wrinkles nowl Where have the years
gomez Is her home in the old place sill:"
"Her homel' said Miss Becky, flushing a
little. "She has none; she is on her way to
the Old Ladies' home"
| 10 the Old Ladies home! Becky Ihorne"
he gasped. "And p
'You seem to have known her pretty
WELL" said Becky, who was beginning to en-
joy the incognito
~ should think so. I've loved Becky
Thorne from my cradle We had silly
! quarrel which parted us: such trifc, when
| look back. Do you ever look back, madame"
The twilight was falling about them;
Becky's face had grown shade or two paler
all at once; she turned her dark, velyety eyes
full upon him with a startled air.
"You?" she said. "You must be Larry
Rogers" Then the color swept to her cheeks
In crimson wave. ''Do you know ! never
thought you had grown old like myself!
Don't you know me? am Becky Thorlie;n
just then the train Numbered through tho
tunnel and they forgot they were ''siNty odd"
''On the way to the Old Ladies' bonle," she
wrote to Mrs. Dwight, 81 was persuaded to
go to an old gentleman's instead. Boston
Traveller.
The oftener flour is sifted for sponge cake
| flo. In