Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1889-12-20

no news of Dorothy; and WIN thaV
letter still in my case rest was not
possible.
Our long period of quietude was
now seldom disturbed. A fe W
chairs had Joined us, but their opin'
ion of what was going on in the
world were valueless they we're
80 easily sat upon; they never
formed any impressions OF their
own they simply received the lm'
pressions of others.
| was longing for some bright
objects, like the silver candlestlcks
or the brass fre.irons, to come
among us, when, after an unusual
amount of noise, an old Venetian
mirror was thrust into our midst.
The first thing it did was to cast
reflections on US all. We saw at
once it was cracked IN fact it was
so shattered that it was hardly
capable OF framing a reply; but
in It's broken.up way, it gave us
some idea of the great changes
which we're still going on. There
had been marriages, deaths, births
and plcnies. Why, hundreds, yes,
thousands of days must have pass
ed since my exile from the busy
whirl
After another long period OF
quietness, merry peals of laughter
gradually aroused us. Our dark,
dusty den had been penetrated by
two lovely girls. Yes, they must
have been lovely for their voices
to sound so sweetly In this dismal
attic. We we're all overhauled-
the candlesticks, the andirons, the
spinning-wheel-but their greatest
Joy seemed to be on finding me. l
now gathered that one young lady
was visitor from a place called
Boston, a city, judged from her
talk, much older and larger than
London or Paris.
Soon after they departed men
came and we were once more TAX
en- into the daylight. When the
dust was removed and we were
rubbed and polished, how We all
frightened mp! Once more they
stood me up, perhaps a little sbaky
now, through missing foot and 9th
er injuries received the night OF
my fall, so long, long ago. And
all this time no one found the let
ter buried in the dust at the bottom
of the case.
The Boston girl seemed so glad
TO see me that she did not want
me to 90. 1t was evidently ber
idea, this bringing US all INTO use
once again. All How changed
the house, the furniture, the people
even
Suddenly in the hall | heard the
sweet old verses Dorothy used so
often to sing. Yes There was no
mlstaking the song; and through
the open door, raising the portiere,
10 she came. She, at least, was
unchanged; the same bronze eyes
and dllating pupils, the same charm
ing mouth with It's dimple on one
side only, the same-DO, not the
same gown; and they called hel
Dora now.
II rrObe was no longer a soit
artistic, clinging gown, but tight
though not unbecOming, dress
which, however, seemed filled with
queer W ire hoops at the back ofth'
skirt. And in place Of the cheer
ful spinning wheel by the laticec
easement there was q so.called sew
ing.machine by a big plate glas
window, and the dear old Fireplace
had been supplanted by an ngl,
steam heater but, nOtTlthstand
ing these prOsaic surroundings
Dorothy, or Dora, was as charming
as ever, and this opinion was eY
IDENTIFY shared by a gentleman VIII
Al this J.. oment was ushered Int
the room, and, hurrylng to ne
side, took both her little whit
4 hands IN his gentle grasp aud raj
u ed them free. Her Boston vislt'
had suddenly entered, and the tai
Y leau between DE Lancey Dyke an
y Dorthy-the tableau which som
le how seemed 80 familiar to me
le ruthlessly shattered.
10 But this train of thought W
- Interrupted by the entrance OF
man who went to work on my mo
4 or less sacred exterior. While G
ing through the operation of belI
~ glued, planed, rlveted, hammert
10 oiled and pOlIsed was bouyed
by the hope that my unwllll
secret, the concealed letter, wor
y" be unearthed. But no; it was Q
~ - dent that the outside only was