Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1890-04-10

But when they began to play games
the chilly air OF reserve which seemed
to encircle the company, was changed
to one of merry good humor. From the
moment when Dorothy's clear, shy eyes
looked into his, as she took the cats
cradle of his hands, Robert had feel
ing of exhilaration and knew that he
should enjoy himself And when he left
Dorothy at her own door. he felt very
joyful as he walked home to the dea-
cons, and it seemed to him that there
was nothing more charming than coun-
try village in May.
Dorothy came down to breakfast next
morning looking very trim and domestic
in light print gown. and when Andrew
spoke in joking manner about her new
city beau, she blushed up to the little
curls of her forehead and looked rather
conscious.
That afternoon she thought she would
go into the woods to see if she could find
some late arbutus. When she reached
the top of the hill she found beautiful
bed of mayflowers, which had come out
late, as they were under a pine tree,
which kept off the sun. AS she was
bending over the flowers, pulling off the
dead leaves which covered them, she
heard deep voice humming:
o. do you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?
Sweet Alice with hair SO brown?
Looking up she saw Robert Deane not
very far from her. just at that moment
he saw her and came toward her. So to-
gether they gathered the arbutus, and
when Robert said that picking may
flowers seemed to be the most appropri-
ate thing in the world for her to do, she
vuoC az al 10 tr1r cd MI 1ya~
than the pinkest of the flowers in her
hand. And then he added: 81 never
knew how beautiful the arbutus was be-
fore" After they had gathered ali the
blossoms uuder the pine tree, Robert
wanted to go up higher on the mountain
to see if there were not some flowers
there. So they did not get home till
supper-time and Dorothy, who was usu-
ally very capable about the house.
seemed ra ther distracted that evening.
AS the days went on, Robert Deane
still stayed in Framleigh. The simple
old deacon, in speaking to the minister's
wife about him, said: ut does seem
mighty queer about Cousin Roberts
eyes. The doctors told him he wouldn't
need to rest them for more than week
or so. and here he isn't able to go back
W OduOTAuSo you, OuI uo uOtS Secm
mighty content here"
May changed to June and still he
stayed. He acquired great interest in
walking, and he and Dorothy used to
take long rambles on the mountains or
by the quiet little river. He told her
about his past life, his hopes and ambi-
tions, and to this country girl, who had
had no intere SITS outside of the little
11Nc I'D L. 4
opened.
One morning when she was working
in the kitchen the old knocker went in
such vigorous way, that she hurried
to the door with her apron on. She
found Robert Deane there looking pale
and anxious. She had hardly time to
say ''Good morning" before he began:
Il have just had letter saying that my
mother is very sick. must go home.
Cousin Nathaniel is going to drive me
to Dayton and am going right on. He
is out here waiting. But l couldn't go
you, Dorothy?" Dorothy very softly
and blushingly told him how sorry she
was that his mother was sick, and that
he might write to her if he wanted to.
Then with an earnest, lingering look
was gone, leaving Dorothy in very be-
wildered state of mind.
She stayed in the house for several
days and then she began to go to the
post-office. At first she asked the good
old postmaster if there was any mail,
demurely, with happy, conscious little
blush. Then, as the days went on and
no letter came, she would ask with an
anxious, nervous manner. Poor Dorothy?
Although she was faithful in her visits
to the pOst-office, she received no letter,
and after a time all the pretty pink
went out of her face and it grew pale
and had pathetic expression. She
always cherished faint hope that she
should hear from Robert, and although
one of the most well-to-do young men
of Framleigh was urgent in his proposals
of marriage and the squire would gladly
have welcomed him as a son-in-law, she
told them it could never be.
y
It was bright June morning. Miss
Dorothy, now nice old lady of sixty,
was picking roses off the large old
cinnamon rose-bush at her back door.
Although her face was not so youthful
looking as it was that afternoon when
she gathered May flowers with Robert
Deane forty years before, yet it was
still very attractive, with its clear, kind
eyes, it's sweet mouth and just a trace of
the roses that used to bloom in her
cheeks. Perhaps it was partly her
kindly face that made all the children
of Framleigh love Miss Dorothy-Aunt
Dorothy, as they called her-and no real
aunt ever had more regard and love
than she did. Her life was not an un-
happy, lonely one, for it was so full of
kindness and blessings to others that
she was happy and content.
A few years after Robert Deane had
gone from Framleigh, she had heard
that he had married rich Boston girl.
Only about year after she had read of
his death. While practicing at the hos
pital, he had taken some contagious dis
ease. That was all she knew about
him. She had never received a word
from him. Although at first her heart
had been bitter toward Robert, yet, as
time went on, her feelings had softened
and now she thought of him in fond,
tender way as one she had loved.
This morning as she was picking the
roses, little Tommy Chaplin, one of her