Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1891-08-28

| It is ten years that you have been away, and
! only found out last week where you were.
What made you go away SO suddenly without
/ saying goodhy to anybody? l ought not to
forgive you, but do. You should have thought
| that perhaps the trouble which made you go
might not have been SO bad after all, and that
| people may not have meant all they said. No
one knows that am writing you this letter,
and perhaps ought not to do it, but am long
\ ing to see my boy again and do no not care
what folks may say. Do not wait to write, but
! come. CHLOE PAYsON.
| A week later Edward Payson stood in
! the grove of sycamores, oaks and naples,
looking at the stone mansion of which he
had been thinking so sadly amid the heat,
dust and noise of the Mexican amphithe-
alter. 1t was just such morning of which
he had dreamed. The sun was shining
brightly, and the low hum of insects min
gled with the SILVER of the leaves over his
head, as if trying to soothe him and quiet
the fierce beating of his heart.
/ "How natural the old house looks. What
little change has been made here in ten
| years. 1t looks the same as it did yester-
| day wonder what my uncle will say to
me. I wish Chloe had said something
about him. We had a rather serious quar-
| rel, remember, the day before l left him.
Perhaps he will tell me to so back again
| and resume the vagrant life that know
he thinks | have been leading. No, he
would hardly say that to the son of his
only brother, after his sacred promise to
that brother to be as a father to me as long
as we both lived
! Besides he was always hot headed, and
no doubt forgave me almost before was
out of the room All, well, shall soon
know, and what do care, so that Chloe
has welcome for me? It was near this
spot that she spoke to me so kindly, and
yet, oh, so coldly, when she told me that
we-cousins-could never be lovers All!
There she is surely"
| His breath came short as he caught sight
of white dress at one of the open win.
dows under the veranda roof. He could
not see the face of the wearer because a
tangled mass of creeper hung in the way,
but he knew it could be no one else save
the girl, as he loved still to think her,
| whom he had come thousands of miles to
see. The white dress moved away, and he
walked slowly across the lawn, noting on
every hand familiar objects that brought
back his youth in a flood of fragrance.
| How weak he felt as he assembled the
steps to the veranda. Where was Chloe?
Would she come to the door?
He pulled the bell handle and heard the
clang that he remembered so we'll resound
ing through the house. He could see it in
his minds eye swinging near the rear of
| the long hall that ran straight through
from the front door to that opening on the
yard at the back, where the old cooks cab
bages and tomatoes were carefully tended
and where it was as much as one of the
kitchen girls life would have been worth
to trespass. He remembered how the old
| bell had, to his youthful imagination, pos
sessed ghostly attributes, and how he used
| to fancy it moved of itself in the dusk of
the evening" shaking it's head in mockery
and threatening to swallow him up into
it's rusty throat.
| Listen! There is a step in the hall.
Somebody is coming. The door opened
| little way, and the futter of a white dress
caught his eye. Impatientiy he pushed the
door wide open and put out his hand to
take that of Chloe.
"Why, Mas'r Ed'ard Eff l didn't t'ink
you'd come back to 70 poo oil auntie,"
and two black hands, in white sleeves.
were placed on Edward Payson's shoulder,
as a pair of hornrimmed spectacles fell
| with crash to the floor.
eyes, auntie got a letter, and l came
| right back to the old place. How are you,
and how is my uncle, and how isis
His voice faltered, but the old woman
did not appear to notice it as she answered.:
l. "Dey is all well, honey. Dere have been
few changes roun here. Come in and let
me give you something to eat. I've got
some hot con cakes, like yer useter git
| when 70 was a boy. Come along Yo
uncle's done gone away for all day."
'"Oh, Auntie, I want you to''-said
child's voice, and little girl with sunny
golden hair came running along the hall
just as Edward Payson used to run some
thirty years before. She stopped when she
saw him and chung close to the fustered
old woman while she looked inquiringly
at hini.
"Yo know, Ed ard, did not know where
20 had gone, but colored man what
works for Mr.. Sherwood, the butcher, he
was here and he toll me he heard as 70
was in Me4ica. And thought yo'd had
little quarrel with 20 uncle, and praps
you'd be too proud to come back If he wrote
to you. and so l got young Miss Mabel,
over to Raleigh's place, who is just as good
as angel to col'ed folks and who writes
splendid, to write to you, and"-
"And was the letter from your" gasped
Edward Payson, as he looked down at the
SoAoSt HoltAo. 44oo1p Sttl, WLllo d teiIlDlo
thought ran through his brain.
cs "Coq RS it was, honey. Wa'ntit signed
"And-and-who is this little child?"
"That? Why, Miss Chloe's, of cou'se.
She was married five years ago to young
Mr.. Willard, who, dey say, will be jedge
next year. He is away today with yo'r IN
Gle. But come up stairs and see Miss
Chloe. What a fool ! is to keep 20 here
with my chatterip, and you been away
from her for ten years"
But Edward Payson, with some excuse
he never knew what-managed to get away
from the house and into the sycamore and
maple grove, where, with the stones of the
old house just visible between the trees,
and the fragrance OF the syrings lowering
like half forgotten melody around his
bowed head, he threw himself on the
ground and neryed himself to bear such a
heart wringing as. fortunately comes to but
a portion of poor humanity.
When, an hour later, he took her hand
be fels sure she understood and pitied him,
though not word on the subject of his
hopeless love has ever passed her lips-or
his.-Gserge c. jerks in Pittsburg Bulle-
tin.