Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1890-03-13

most cultivated woman in the state
Glare sprung up from his chair in
enthusiasm.
so much the BETTER" said he. Il
hate your blue stockings who 90 about
in tattered froeks and inky fingersr'
''But you haven't told me- inter-
posed Wayne, chow you commenced to
correspond with person whom you
confess that you never saw"
"Oh, that is plain enough. I had
been reading "A Lost Love, and. IN the
magnetic spell of the moment, sat
down and wrote to the authoress-di-
recting, of course, to the care of her
publishers. She answered my letter in
the same spirit-and, by Jove, old fell
low, this correspondence has been a
treat all along. Her letters are charm
ing"
Mr.. Wayne smiled.
Il see that l shall have to introduce
YOU" said he.
Clare rung his hand.
81 shall be your debtor all my life
time if you will," cried he.
L am going down to see her this
afternoon" said Wayne; land if you
will meet me at the 8 o'clock train,
will venture to insure you welcome. y
''Tll be as punctual as the clock, :"
said Robert Clare, with sparkling eyes
and heightened color.
And he kept his word.
yellow Valley, eh?" said he, glanc-
ing at the railway tickets in his friends
hand. why! it can't be possiblel I
was boy there. / know every one in
Yellow Valley"
''Then perhaps you know this ladyP"
Clare shook his head.
'tAll the men at Yellow Valley are
humdrum, money-making machines, 5"
said he. "All the women are smiling
and stupid, without an idea beyond
croquet and worsted work. But per-
haps she's visiting there"
eve shall see," said Wayne, with
provoking uncommunicativeness
At the Yellow Valley station a little
close carriage met them with a respect
full driver in plain clothes, who touched
his hat to Mr.. Wayne as if he was a
familiar guest, and away they whirled,
under the bending green of the elm
boughs, and past the peaceful home
steads that lined the way to the village.
''Why!" exclaimed Glare, as the car
rage drew up in front of pretty stone
villa, ''this is the old Deane mansioni
What on earth are you stopping here
forP''
Eyes" said Wayne; ''it is the old
Deane mansion; and here is your I'M
known correspondent, the authoress of
"A Lost Love, coming to welcome US. !"
And the next moment he had folded
slight figure in his arms with most
loving kiss. She disengaged herself,
laughing and blushing.
''Phil, what an uncivilized savage you
are!' said she. ''And | have not even
spoken to Mr.. Clare.
But Mr.. Clare stood transfxed in a
sort of incredulous surprise.
''Gertyr cried he-sGerty Deaner'
She inclined her head, with a roguish
dimple in either cheek.
YES" said she; ''Gerty Deane. Oh!
you never dreamed that YOU were cor
responding with me, did you? For
PhiIs sister copied all my letters and
posted them from Philadelphia; and
Phil didn't object, and
'But what business was it of Mr..
Wayne's?" rather haughtily demanded
Robert Clare.
''Oh, none ia particular, said Gerty
only we were married last month"
Clare stood aghast. His Gerty-the
darkeyed little gypsy who had once
been SO submissive to his every whim
the queen of the literary worId-the
unknown correspondent whose glitter
ing intellect had so dazzled him
another mans wifel
When the bud is only half open no
one can tell how loyal rose it may
become. And when Clare went back
to the city on the evening train, that
night, be caught himself repeating
Whittiers refrain:
'Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these-it might have been"
For the book and book-maker were
both, as far as he was concerned, "a
lost love. "-NeU York Led0er.