Los Angeles herald., 1892-06-28

and all went merry as a marriage .o..
until, in some manner, he offended the
object of his alteration.
Judge he made her jealous, having
been in his day beau of the first water,
and much admired by the ladies; but he
was too modest to say SO outright. But
at all events she would not forgive him.
She refused him the miniature which
had been painted for him; she took back
her lock Of hair and sent him back his
letters, and in all sorts Of ways wreaked
vengeance upon him for his evil do
ing. Yet l believe she intended to re-
lent and forgive; and he also thought so,
l am sure. He made every possible
apology and overture, but she yielded
not one inch.
At last her mother died. That great
sorrow, it seemed to him, must bow her
pride, and she must more than ever need
comforter, a consoler, protector.
Allowing time for the first burst Of
grief, he wrote to her, asking her to re-
ply, whatever her fat might be, begging
her to forgive him, and once more prom
ise to be his wife.
"She never answered me-" he said.
"She never gave me one word in reply"
1t was on my tongue to say she had
been very vindictive, but saw that that
would not do. Miss Nancy was sainted
in his memory, and could be suspected
Of no wrong whatever.
II erred beyond forgiveness, sweet
angel" he said-"I erred beyond for
giveness;" and Bachelor Barton could
not have been moved from this opinion
by the whisper of an angel.
"Auntie,' cried my little nephew,
there's something in the crows nest"
l was sitting in the garden and the
voice sounded above my head. looked
up with a start. In the road outside
arose tall pole, and from time imme-
mortal great crows nest had crowned
it. How little Billy had managed to
reach it's apex cannot say, but there he
was, and speechless with horror could
only implore him, in dumb show, to de-
scend.
He answered with a laugh, flung some
thing to the ground and came sliding
down after it.
"You naughty boyw cried, as !
caught him in my arms
Its not bit like nest, auntie," he
said. "It's all ugly and muddy. There
were some feathers in it, black, and
there was dead bird, and there was
that cap-a queer cap. never saw such
funny thing"
He picked from the grass the object
he had cast down. 1t looked like
crushed leather box, and had been melt
ed by the sun and soaked by the rain
until it was shapeless; but it certainly
proved to be queer, old fashioned cap,
with peak and lined with oiled silk, and
as Billy tossed it about and turned it
inside out, square, white package
dropped from some secret spot beneath
this lining, which had kept it from de-
struction adown the years.
Long years they must have been, for
the letter had been written before the
days when envelopes were used, was
curiously folded and sealed with large
seal on which was the letter IF" It
was addressed in delicate, running
hand, to "Alwyn Barton, Esq, The
Oaks" etc In fact it had evidently
been intended for the old gentleman we
called Bachelor Barton, and to him at
once dispatched it with note of expla-
nation.
His answer was request that and
my husband would do him the honor of
calling, as Mr.. Barton was unwell and
there was much to explain. And of
course we went.
Bachelor Barton, bolstered up with
pillows, lay upon lounge, pale as yell
low wax, his eyes shining under his gray
brows
"Dear friends, you have told me that
the letter you sent me was in the lining
of an old leather cap in the crows
nest," he said. II remember seeing the
cap thrown away. Miss Frees little
negro servant, Cato, wore it. A car
penter who was mending the barn had
snatched it and flung it in the air. Ap-
parently it never came down again. It
was searched for, and watched the
search from the window, but never
dreamed that it was in the nest. The
cap was old. Cato had new one, and
that was the end of it. But now re-
member that in that oiled silk lining
the boy put any letters with which he
was sent to the postofice, in order to
keep them clean. I think it was made
with sort of pocket on purpose, and in
that lining this letter had started on its
way to me, when rude jest ended my
hopes Of happiness for life. Cato forgot
or never told the fact of its being unde-
ivered.
1.-The letter, dear friends, was an am
swer to my prayer for Miss Nancy Frees
pardon-a beautiful, forgiving, angelic
reply. Had received it should have
flown to her. She should have been my
bride. These lonely years would have
been gladstone. might not have been
the last leaf on q withered branch.
1T was fated not to be. trust she
did not suffer also. IL fear that is
possible. How discourteous she must
have deemed me. never dreamed she
had written. p
He paused. Tears filed his eyes.
II am sorry" began.
Don't say you are sorry you found
itr' Bachelor Barton cried. s'If was
foolish enough to faint when the truth
burst upon me. still rejoice. Up there
think she waits for me--there, where
the truth is manifest without words;
aeg