Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1890-06-14

liked change. She hsd nurved b.
mother in her last illness. ana ~ ~
manned with Dosia now, In her loooai
ness. not unwillingly, for shs w. fas
seeing, and the day might come when
Job Furnival would be seeking coosoaa-
ton; she ate no idle bread, and job
might yet learn her value.
Roxnnna, according to her wont, was
up betimes this morning, and having
browbeaten the hired negress who did the
cooking, she bounced out of the front
door, broom in hand, to sweep the trout
porch, Just as Nicholas Thorne came up
the steps.
A tall, strong, gaunt woman was Rox-
ANN, in whom hard work and meager
fare had left scarce a trace Of the bucom
beauty that had distinguished her youth.
In her dress, narrow and short. thero
was no effort at adornment. 'T66A -
likes may put In their eight or nine
breadths," Miss Roxauna was 1ccus-
TONED to say; "but four b plenty fur
any mortal woman, an mo- convenient
to pocket an backbone" No rufass, no
tucks, no manner Of superfluitiss for her.
Her only vanity was her hair, which still
retained its color and its gloss. She had
tied towel over her head to protect it
from the dust; but truly the dust might
hardly reach her head, so high II waa
above her broom.
Now, Miss Roxanna White had never
approved of the admiration Nicholas
evinced for Dosia. She was decidedly
Of the opinion that 1t would never do to
have this young sprig Of quality hanging
around girl whose mother was dead,
and whose father was away. She-would
have liked to sweep Col. Thornes son of
the porch, with the two or three leaves
she espied upon the floor; but as she
could not do this, she lowered In the
doorway and held her broom crosswise,
as she exclaimed, forbiddingly: Land
alive! Nick Thorne! What brung you
here this time o day, befo' even the cows
is milked?" And to herself she thought,
1--WE writ that aunt o his'n warnin';
why amt she fitten to keep him homer
Nicholas laughed: the fun of the situ-
alton was irresistible; 1t made him, for
the moment, oblivious of its tragic as
pect. "Ive come for my wife," he said,
and turned suddenly sober and scarlet
with the humiliating reflection that he
was seeking shelter, not Offering it.
"Land O Goshen!" exclaimed Miss
White, irately. "Why amt ye mo- re-
spect fur yo' s'periors in age and wisdom,
boy2 I'm s'prised at ye; an / dunno
why should be, neither. don want
no nonsense here. Git outr'
~ tell you Dosia is my wife," said
Nicholas gravely. 1--WE were married
by old Mr. Drummond, in her mothers
presence, two days before Mrs. Furnival
died"
Miss Whites sallow face underwent q
variety of contortions; she nearly swal-
lowed the little bit Of athea stick with
which she had been taking her morning
"dip," and which she habitually carried
in her mouth; the broom clattered from
her grasp, as her hands hung down,
helplessly. She understood now why
she had been sent to visit relation six
miles distant, just two days before Mrs.
Furnival died. "Wha - WHAT" she
gasped. Then, under strong conviction,
she lifted her right arm straight-it near
ly touched the lintel-and said, with
strong emphasis, "I'll bet my ultimate
picayune the colonel amt consentin'."
"Never you mind the colonel" said
Nicholas, shortly. II must see Dosia."
Dosia had heard his voice; she came
out into the little entry that divided the
rooms, and stood there, pale and trem-
bling.
"Dosia! Dosiar' cried Nicholas, wild
ly, as he pushed past the demoralized
spinster; and the next instant she was
in his arms.
"Dosia," said Miss White, hoarsely,
you're cawnsistent member of the
Methods clu'ch, an so fur fo'th ez I
know, you amt had naire q fall from
grace; eff you say hits true that ye air
married, ez he tells-beside Cousin Man
dys bed o death-I'll believe it,"
SIT is true" said Dosia, with smiles
and tears and bushes.
Miss White picked up her broom and
went to sweeping off the porch. She
made two comments mentally, one in
reference to Dosias mother, the other to
Dosia's father: "She must a-turned plum
fool befo' she died. and, "he's got 'em
to tote, ! see."
Nicholas and Dosia sat down on the
long wooden bench that constituted the
only furnishing of the little passage
Miss White, glancing over her shoulder,
saw them there, and she Immediately
slammed the front door.
you've been in the rain," said Dosia,
accustomed all her life to consider others.
"How wet your clothes are! You must
have ridden all night"
~ did," Nicholas answered, with q
dark frown; then, with a burst of bitter
laughter: "Have you any clothes, Dosia?
/ don't know that l have any, unless I've
left few scattering about Sunrise plan
tation that may lay claim to-"
"Your father hasr'-Dosia faltered.
my father has responded Nicholas,
indicating with "a wave of his hand that
words would not express the sentence
passed upon him. - .--
Dosia sat silent and stunned, clinging
to his arm; for herself it did not matter;
but for Nicholas-it seemed at the mo-
ment more than she could bear.
my whole fortune" said Nicholas,
with covert bitterness, "consists in my
horse and my watch; we'll sell these,
DoSia, and defy the world"
81 have done you great wrong she
whispered.
you've done yourself a great wrong,
it may be, dear heart" said Nicholas.
"But at least we have each other. Oh,
Dosia Dosia! my wife! Ii they only
knew you, Dosia, my saint! There is
nobody like you. You had faith in me,
and you saved me. Compared with you,
what are they all? Henceforth live only
for you. Missy, Missy alone he ial-
tered Poor little sister! she has not
cast me off. How she cried to me, through