The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1889-03-14

| week.
II will pay it."
You"
"Yes; | will not let him die for
want of money l have. He" and her
lip 1uivercd -''he looks like nv dear
father who is dead
''H'm-yes. Here come the fellows to
take him to the station. | think / will
take him to the little cottage where L
board. 1t will cost less and lie more
quiet"
Mrs. COurtland declared Alice was
Outraging the proprieties most dread
fully when the young girl went to the
cottage and offered her services AS
nurse to the doctor; but Aunt Sophie
silenced comment by moving her be-
longings from the hotel to the quiet
hoarding-house, and the doctor found
he had Il valuable assistant
Alice explained. in her quiet, low
voice, that her father was sick for nine
months before he died, and she was
his nurse. This accounted for the
noiseless WOODEN dresses, the velvet
shod feet, the quick eve and ready
hand. and, when the sufferer recovered
consciousness, the gentle voice and tact
quieted him in paroXysms of the pain
and fever. Aunt Sophie was too much
of an invalid herself to help, but she
sat beside tie bed while Alice moved
to and fro. made dainty soups and
tempting dishes, and performed all
nursing duties.
The Invalid had one long talk with
the doctor and then submitted to the
gentle minIstration of the two women,
only insisting that man the doctor
provided being with him at night and
within cali.
! The season was over, and only those
three remained of the summer boarders
at the little cottage. when one cool
October day the sick man, now fast re-
covering, called Alice Ia him.
Il shall soon be well again." he said
regrctfully.
YES" she answered checrily; every
soon."
81 shall miss my nurse"
"And | my patient; but l am glad
you are recovering. We were afraid
at one time there would be a more
painful parting"
"You mean | was in danger of dy-
; ing. Why should that be painful. /
! am old"
She made no answer, looking sor-
| EOW1ully lulO MS upliltCu eyes.
"And burden upon you, the doctor
tells me. Why did you make yourself
responsible for strauger?"
The fair face flushed, the soft eyes
were dewy with feeling as Alice said
softly:
because you are old and seemed
poor and friendless. / was glad it
was in my power to aid you. Do not
| think 1t 9,
added, with generous desire to light
ell the burden of obligation. 81 have
some money lying idle"
''FOr the wedding day, perhaps.
Well, child, you might have poorer
jewels to deck your bridal than an old
mans tears of gratitude and love. |
am getting well and shall soon leave
you; will you give me keepsakeP"
The girl loosened Il little lOcket from
chain around her throat, cut off-somc
of her golden curls and put in the
place of some she took out, and laid
the trinket in the old mans hand.
with my love-" she said softly.
| "Ah, child" he sighed, ''an old
man, sick and feeble, wins little love"
Yet" she said, earnestly, ''vou
must believe that | have nurSed YOU
since YOU were conscious, with affection.
MY own father is gone, but if YOU ever
want daughters care or affection,
believe me, | will gladly come to you,
| if possible"
Three days later the little cottage
was deserted. Aunt Sophie and she
returned to their homes to make up for
lost time in dreSsmaking and sewing,
| and Alice cheerfully paid out of her
small patrimony for the board and ex-
pense of her venerable patient.
She little guessed how deep an i'm
preston her care and tenderness had
made upon the heart So long closed
against human affection, so dlstruslful
| OF any advances from his fellow-crea-
| lures. 1t was n revelation to him,
| this active charity of an utter stranger.
He had gone to the hotel merely to see
Malcolm's choice and had purposely
left all clew to his identity behind him.
He had intended meeting Alice. if
possible, unknown, and watching her
unobserved, but accident had thrown
them together in Il way ho little antici-
pated. The first use he made of his
recovery was to write to his nephew,
and Malcolm met him at the depot
when he returned home.
Knowing nothing of the recent ac-
cident, the young man was shocked at
the change in his uncle's face.
"You have been illP" he cried.
"very ILL.,"
"Why did you not send for me9"
II mad even better nursing than
yours, Malcolm. Don't ask me any
questions now, but tell me about your
marriage preparations"
sAlice has gone home and will re-
main until November. Then she
comes to Mrs. Hay,lon's and will buy
her house and furniture"
"In November"
"Yes."
Late in November she came, her
trunks full of Aunt Sophy's daintiest
stitching. and Aunt Marcia gave her
cordial greeting. A grand wedding
was the display upon which this lady
had set her heart, and Alice shrank a
little at the comments upon the rich
uncle. and her own good fortune in
the "iirst-rate match"
But just before the wedding day a
little note was brought to Alice by a
gorgeous footman, who was driving to
her aunt's behind private carriage.
The note was from Malcolm, and beg
red her to come TO him in the car
riage.
Wondering, but obedient, Alice was
speedily ready, and was driven to a
handsome brown stone house, where
the door was opened TO usher her into
. a stylish drawing-room, where gen
tleman awaited her, and Malcolm, adj
vancing said:
? My Uncle Hiram. Alice"
Kindly blue eyes looked into hel
own, wilhered hands were extended
and voice she knew well said:
1--WE are old friends, Malcolm. ARE
q we not, AliccP"
Then, before she could answer, thu
old man continued:
+ IL have thought, Alice, that it wa
: unkind to have my nephew wait TO
, my death before sharing my wealth.
T have borne Il curse of distrust in m,
!. heart for many years, thinking IN.
: money won me all the affection, saw
Malcolm's, that was offered me. Bu
though you are well conteut to WEI
tha vnun,r 1lprE and Ott VOtlr owl