The Democratic advocate., 1889-12-21
LOVE IN A SNOW DRIFT.
coNrINuEp FnoM FIRsr PAGE.

was characteristic of Pomeroy always
thought of others before himself-that he
first tramped back all the way they had
come, carrying can Of hot tea, cup and
a good portion Of bread and butter to the
cross grained old couple who had shared
their carriage
at viii give them something fresh to
argue over he said, laughing.
When he returned half hour later,
shaking himself free of the snow, he found
his charge already refreshed by the timely
food and warmth. The station masters |
wife had taken her upstairs and made her
comfortable with loan Of warm home
made stockings and pair of kdge slippers,
putting her own to dry meantime, Alison
began pouring out the tea she had kept hot |
for him. The Colonel begged Mrs. Blair
to make fresh brew, saying that hunger
would soon drive others to follow their ex-
ample.
ss0r I might organize a relief party to
dispense provisions, he suggested, as she
hurried Of to do his pleasure.
"But not till you have had good meal
YOURSELF, Alison said, decidedly. "The
porridge IS lovely; do try it. l don't want
a monopoly Of all the good things"
He let himself be persuaded, establishing
himself on a bench near her, with bowl
Of hot perridge, which not even the pewter
spoon could spoil The surroundings were
not favorable to romance, yet one of the
pair at least could not help thinking how
many eventful years had passed since last
they broke bread together; how many hopes
had died since those youthful days.
She sighed involuntarily at what might
have been as she passed her companion his
cup. He took it with oae hand, and with
the other detained hers, for his quick ears
had caught the sigh.
ssWhat, sighing over our Christmas feast,
the first we have enjoyed together, too, for
years I'm afraid you are very tired
.s0k, no; was only thinking Of those
old times. It is always sad to look back.
She would have withdrawn her hand, but
he only clasped it tighter.
rs it? When the future, perhaps, has
brighter things in stere Alison, happy
chance has brought about this meeting.
Shall We agree to take up our friendship
from the point where it was interrupted so
long ago. May | ask you over again that
question which you never really answered.
I have loved you all this time-y0u and no
other. Is there any hope for me now 2
He leaned across the table, eagerly ques-
tioning the sweet face only partially illu
mined BY the FIRE flames, though the fare
from the oil lamp behind her fell full on
bis, revealing all its earnestness. allison,
give me only crumb Of hope, and | viii
Be content to begin my courting all over
again.
She gave him a crumb, certainly, for her
hand remained contentedly in his; but as
we know Tappetif rient en- maageaa,, and
having obtained so much, Pomeroy (like
Oliver asked for more, passing from a
cramb to a slice, and from a slice to whole
loaf. till he mad made Alison look up and
7-eonfess that she had loved him years age,
aul sssA- saslch in the same mind still.
At thls he bent down to cover the hand
h6bei with HSses and might not even
have stopped there but for Mrs. Blair's
appearance whh kettle % boiling water
and fresh provisionvaf tea.
Pomeroy in all his anSalish life had
never found ii more difficult 70 h philan-
thropic than row; nor did his looks. wei
come the stragglers who soon began to esTu
up one BY one But Alison set him ;
good example, and began Hospitality dis
pensing the tea as th9agh she had been in
her own drawing-room. Il pleased Pome-
roy, however, to notz her blushes when
ever their 6ngers came in contact over the
cups. Every shy, ayerted look, each tinge
Of heightened color, seemed to assure him
Of h1s9iate-won victory
wonder If any Of their fellow travellers
perceived the romance working itself ous
under their very eyesl As we pass on IN
needing, engrussed each one with his own
affairs, how many Efe-histories are unfold
ing around Us How often do we blander
into the middle Of third yolume--or tread
the brink Of a crisis in some one else's
story-or stAnd nuknowingly by while
FINS Is written TO some long romance.
As TIE weary hours Of that Christmas
eve passed into Christmas morning, Alison,
amid all the discoinforts Of the situation,
tired. cramped. crowded, cold and stiaed
by turns, was conscious always Of the in
visible shield Of love and tenderness out
spread between her and the auneyances Of
the outer world. Life was no longer the
dreary thing il had so lately looked 10 her,
for she seemed to stand upon the threshold
Of future which should compensate the
painful past. and her heart glowed within
her as the dull, mean room became trans
formed INFO au ante-cnamber Of unknown
felicities
Midday had come and gone, when a
rough sledge, drawn BY a steady old cob,
was sean approaching the little station
house, and hailed BY the imprisoned travel
lers with as much rapture as the sail des-
cried by a csstaway from his desert island
L proved to be vehicle dispatched frcm
Ladykirk 10 search of some missing pro-
vision hampers, and It's driver had special
orders to inquire for tidings Of the delsyed
train. Pcmeroy, who had just returned
from one of his relief expeditions. saw his
opportunity aud rushed out to parley with
the driver In minute or two he came
back triumphant The sleigh was a rude
one, intended for luggage, but il would be
possible TO make Mrs Lloyd fairly coni-
Portable upon ii; and, as it was now tenn
porarily fine overhead, the Colonel arrang
ed that the hampers and themselves
should travel in company to their destina-
ton.
Oh and it was warm welcome that
the chilled and weary wayfarears received
upon the threshold Of Ladykirk from It's
hospitable master and mistress. And it
was Mrs. Drummond-0 Orr herself who led
Alison up stairs to the luxurious guest
chamber, to be refreshed, and warmed, and
petfed, while her husband hurried off to
make provision for the less fortunate
travellers left behind
4 half hour later Colonel Pomeroy
joined his friend in the library looking at
least ten~y years younger for his late ex-
periences His host looked up with ready
sympathy.
sReally, Pomeroy, who would have
thought Of your having to spend the best
part Of your Christmas shut up in that
poky I:ttle hole It's an awful sell for
you
Not al all, Jack. Indeed tell the
truth, old feIIow--I never enjoyed one
more
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