The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1890-11-28

lips" So the proud old squire was gone!
Herbert had always thoughE of him as liv-
ing and ruling his family with despotic
hand forever He looked anxiously at the
names upon the stones in the old squire's
family group Was Margaret, too, sleep
ing under the grass? With a sigh of relief
he saw that her name was not there.
Margaret! Her face, rising up through
the mist of years, had been before his eyes
as he journeyed toward his native town.
How ridiculous it wasl he laughed to
think that a boyish fancy should come
back TO him Still he knew he had never
forgotten it. 1t was on Margaret's account
that he started out into the world Her
proud father frowned on him, and she was
submissive to the old mans will He never
asked Margaret TO be his wife, but he was
sure when he left her that she understood
him. He intended to go back and claim
her when he had won riches TO give him
the right. The riches came sooner even
than he hoped, but he never went back
He wondered now why he had not done it.
He had never seen fair face that did not
grow less fair rs he compared it with Mar
garet He had even cherished her memory
as secret grief, which at times gave him
feeling of superiority over those of his as
sociates who were happily married. She was
probably married herself now, and had for
gotten him. 1t irritated him to think of it.
A church bell ringing Cor Thanksgiving
service vibrated clear notes through the
frosty air 1t was the same old bell. Her
bert could never forget its tone. The call
was irresistible. Leaving the grave yard
he retraced his steps TO the church
As an usher gave him a seat he noticed
that the high, old fashioned pulpit had
been replaced 10y broad, open platform
with a small reading desk, and although
the pews appeared the same their doors had
vanished. He remembered the click of the
button and the feeling of Imprisonment
it gave him a. his uncle closed the pew
door and fastened it before service
The congregation was gathering There
were many faces, those of new corners
brought TO the town by the mills, which re
vived no memories; but there were others,
the sight of which made Herbert feel that
he was living in dream. One couple
whom he remembered as lovers came up
the aisle followed by a group of young
people. He recognized the faces of father
and mother at once, although twenty years
had changed the slender youth TO q portly
family man and the bashful girl into Sc
rene matron. Then came three sisters.
stout and silvery haired, evidently old
maids, all of them, although Herbert re
membered them as bellies of the village
He thought with.a little thrill of triumph
of the time when one of them had wounded
his youthful pride by refusing to dance
with him at rustic merry-making long
ago because he was only boy
TLara Hx-ar. Orhar f,ooS x.-I,;ob ,.aaaIla5
many forgotten events of his boyhood-
some of people he remembered in middle
life, now grown aged, others of old school
mates, serious now with the dignity of
years. 1t was strange to think of them
treading the quiet old paths all the long
time which he had spent in the noise and
hustle of the world. He wondered if he
had grown as old as they. He could not
realizeit, and yet some of them looked at
him as they passed up the aisle with the
mild curiosity awakened by the sight of a
stranger. He saw that no one recognized
him, and he felt more lonely than before.
The pew in front of where he was sitting
remained empty almost to the last. Then
two ladies entered, followed by a stout,
middle aged man and some young people,
one of whom Herbert recognized as the lad
who had directed him to the grave yard.
He knew now why he had almost said,
Hello, Joe,' for the stout man at the head
Of the pew, evidently the lads father, was
Joe Phillips, his old comrade. And, yes,
one of the ladies was Margaret Herbert
could see only her side face, but that was
enough. That clear cut profile was craven
upon his memory like the profile of a Roman
empress upon an antique gem, lasting for
all time. She had grown older. but shs
did not look like an old maid; her girlish
beauty had changed to that of sweet ma
turity; there was not fretful line on her
placid face. The old lady was probably
Joe's wife, but her face was not familiar.
Joe had not married one of the village
girls. Herbert wondered if Margaret was
married. too. The fact that she was with
her brother ON Thanksgiving day meant
nothing, for New England women always
dock hume for the family festival