The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1889-07-20

rs she disengaged herself and Strengthened
her rumpled cap. Then she went on:
''There are your school friends, Tiny Pate
man and Lulu Grant, and we'll send for
Frank. OF course, by this time, he's gotten
over his sore feelings"
She said this looking keenly into Clare's
face, which had fallen somewhat at the
mention of Franks name.
run OF now, and write the notes. Ask
three more young ladies and gentlemen,
whoever you choose, and III try and make
them enjoy themselves"
After Clare had gone, the old lady's face
still kept its peculiar smile, as she thought:
ut may be foolish Of me, putting her
right in his way. But no. / know his stock,
and guess run no risk"
The gay company came.
Such lively times as they all hadi Such
glorious moonlight sails on the lakel Such
picnics in the woods! Such magnificent tab
leauxl for which Aunt Jane brought out all
her treasures of velvets and satins from
their great cedar chests.
Frank had come, and Clare confessed to
herself that Aunt Jane was right. No one
would have picked him out for a victim of
unrequited love as he laughed and jested
with piquant Tiny, who evidently looked
VIII l0fOE QtfOu uGT Jdll CdtallSI. SldrG
knew she ought to be pleased that it was so;
but all unconsciously she missed the kindly
giances that had once been all for her, and
felt something which if it wasn't jealousy,
was akin to it, as she would see his tall
form disappearing under the trees, with the
brilliant Tiny leaning confidingly on his arm.
All this time Aunt Jane was not idle, and
as she talked with Clarence Holland, and
av>ox- y, ~ xLox 49,. E..
Judgment Of him had been correct The
time was approaching when the pleasant
party were to separate, and one morning,
Aunt Jane and Lulu Grant and Mr. Holland,
were in the breakfast room, waiting for the
rest to make their appearance, when the
conversation turned upon wills, led that
way no one knew exactly how, except per-
haps Aunt Jane.
SWELL" said Lulu Grant, 81 for one sha'n't
care if never am rich, for then no one will
quarrel about my money after 1 am gone"
II shall guard against that" said Aunt
Jane, for in my will, / shall endow
worthy charity, which DR.. Morse has often
spoken to me about"
Lulu looked up into the old lady's face, as
she spoke, and her quick woman's wit
understood the quizzical expression she saw
tuCAC. ANoe oo, uOWCfCI, SldECuCG I10llduu.
He was very absent all through the meal,
and after breakfast went up to his room,
complaining that the heat had given him a
headache. The next day he was gone, and
a short note on Clare's bureau told the rea-
son. He had been called away on business,
he said, and, besides, he felt that it was so
palpable that her love for him had gone,
that it was better he should go and leave
her free. It was an incoherent note; but
when Clare showed it to Aunt Jane, she
understood it.
1.-THE mercenary wretchl read him
right. 1t was what said about nv will
that has caused this. Thank your Heavenly
Father, my child, that your eyes have been
opened at last"
A bright color bathed Clare's face az she
exclaimed:
''Aunty, my eyes have been opened for
some time. knew did not love him, but
/ had given him my promise"
The house seemed very lonely when they
had all gone; but the loneliness was good
for Clare. She grew to miss the familiar
form and voice she had been used to notice
SO little; and to wish that Frank would come
soon again.
Then came letter to Aunt Jane from the
far West:
my DEAR FRIEND: You will be surprised
when you receive this to know that i am out on
the plains, fighting the Indians-that is, ex-
pecting to; we have had no encounter as yet.
wanted to come and bid you and Miss Clare
goodbye. but it was all so sudden. My friend,
Major Hugh Fielding, commands the party, and
when volunteers were called for. was the first
he asked, and was not sorry to 60. You have
known, my dear friend Of my love for your
niece. or course. all that is past; but, all the
same feel as II am just as well here as any
where else. Nevertheless. wherever may be,
shall always remember you with the same af-
fectionate respect.
please give my regards to your niece.
"Yours sincerely, FRANK AMEs"
Aunt Jane burst into tears.
"Ol Glare; see what you have done!''
Clare read the letter in silence, and pal
lor crept over her face as she awole to
know what she had suspected for long
time was true, and that the love she had
once refused was the one thing in the world
that she now longed for.
IF he dies, shall never forgive myself,
aunty," she said, at last in q choked voice,
and they mingled their tears together.
Then how eagerly the papers were
The Indians were causing great
deal Of trouble, and news came from time to
sime Oh sklfmlsheS, ana OF 0mcefs Killed or
wounded. And one day, with the letters
dancing in fantastic shapes before her eyes,
Clare read that final engagement had
taken place, resulting in the victory Of our
troops; and little further down, under the
list OF the killed, the name Of Frank Aimes !
For two months AuntJane smothered her |
own sorrow, as she leaned over the bed |
where her niece lay, and heard the anguished |
cry:
Frank! Franki it is / who have killed |
your
Then the crisis came, and the doctors said |
their patient would live
Time passed, till one day Aunt Jane came |
INTO the room where, bolstered up in an arm
chair, was Clare, mere shadow of her |
former self. All her wealth of sunny hair
was gone, and the wan, child-like face
seemed almost too spiritual for this earth, !