The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1889-05-30

! r19nt IN MS wy. But ne. know his stock,
and guess r.sE no risk;
The gay company came.
Such lively times as thoy all had! Such
glorious moonlight sails on the lake.! Such
picnics in the w0odsl Such magnificent tab
leaux for which Aunt Jane brought out all
her treasures of velvets and satins from
their great cedar chests. rE7 -
Frank had come, and Clare confessed to
herself that Aunt Jane was right. No one
would have picked him out for victim of
unrequited love ss he laughed and tested
with piquant Tiny, who evidently looked
with favor upon her tall cavalier Glare
knew she ought t. be pleased thatit was SO !:
but all unconsciously she missed the kindly
giances that had once been all for her, and
1elt something which if it wasn't jealousy,
was akin to it, as she would sec 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
drew him out, she saw that her former
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.
''Well," said Lulu Grant, 's1for one sha'n't.
care If never am rich, for then no one will
quarrel about my money after am gone',
II shall guard against that" said Aunt
Jane, for in my will, l shall endow 4
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
there. Not so, however, Clarence Holland.
lilo was very absent all through the meal.
AID after breakfast went up to his room.
complaining that the heat had given him a.
headache. The next day he was gone, and
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. 1t was an incOherent note; but
when Clare showed it to Aunt Jane, she
understood it.
''The mercenary wretch! read him
right. 1t was what 1 said about nv will
tn 1t has caused this. Thank your Heavenly
Father, my child, that your eyes have been
opened at last''
| A bright color bathed Clare's face as she
exclaimed:
"Aunty, my eyes have be1n opened for
some time. 1 knew did not ;ove him, but
had given him my promise''
The house seemed very lonely when they
| had all gone: but the loneliness was uood
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 camo letter to Aunt Jane from the
! far West:
my DEAR FRIEND: You will be surprised
| when you receive this to know that am out on
! the plains, fighting the Indians-that is, ex-
pectlng to; We have had no encounter as yet 1
wanted to come and bid you and Miss C1are
| goodbye, but it was all so sudden. My friend
Major Hugh Fielding, com"spG* ia rrss-cy, and
when volunteers weiv sSsicd for, was the first
| he asked, and was Rot sorry to co. You have
known, my dear friend. OF my love for YOUR
niece OF course, all that is past; but all the
| same, feel as ii am just as we'll here us any,
where else Nevertheless, wherever may be,
fectionate respect.
please give my regards to your niece.
yours sincerely, FRANK AIMES."
Aunt Jane burst into tears.
10! Clare; see what you have done!'
Clare read the letter in silence, and pal.
lor crept over her face as she awoke 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 choked voice,
| and they mingled their tears together.
Then how eagerly the papers were
scanned. The Indians were causing great
deal OF trouble, and news came from time to
time of skirmishes, and of officers 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 a little further down, under the
list of the killed. the name of Frank Aimes.
For two months Aunt Jane smothered her
own sorrow, as she leaned over the bed
where her niece lay, and heard theanguished
Crank! Frank! it is who have killed
you!''
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 Glare, a mere shadow of her
former self. All her wealth of sunny hair
was gone, and the wan, child-l like face
seemed almost too spiritual for this earth.
She went, and, leaning over, kissed her
niece's forehead.
A 1SsE Of tears burst from the girls eyes,
as she exclaimed:
"Aunty! Aunty! Why did I get Uettet:
What use is there of my living, whom i
wretched I-sent him / loved to his death?
O, Aunty! 1t is more than can bear!'
The tears forced themselves through tho
thin fingers as she covered her face with h>:r
hands. Aunt Jane did net :7Eaa rhc1r
was a slight movement in tie room and
Clare fsas1 her head. Then piercing cry
of unutterable glat1lcss nag oft:
"Franku'
A manly figure knelt by her side; his arms
were around her; and Frank (for it was he:
spoke:
Darling, have heard it from your own
lips. You do love me''
But Clare had tainted; the joy was too
much for her feeble frame. When she came
back to consciousness, and saw Frank bend
ing over her, regardless of Aunt Jane-who
indeed, was too much overcome to notice
she wound her soft arms round his neck
and as he felt the tremulous kiss upon his
lips he knew that at last the love he had
coveted so long was his.
1tdid not take long to tell of his capture by
the savage foe, and Of his escape: and joy
full greeting from his comrades, who had
mourned him as dead.
To say that Aunt Jane was pleased, would
not be enough: and when her lawyer drew
up her will, do not think that that charity
asylum got all of her fortune, although, of
course, no one knows yet, for she is still
olive, and watches with happy eyes the
welded love of her niece Clare, and the hus-
band she chose for her.-N. Y Ledger.
All Had the Same Dream.
1t is a most singular fact that under
certain combined conditions of fatigue,
discomfort and malaria whole bodies
of men-such as companies of soldiers
have been seized by the same terrific