The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1892-10-15

"Ollver !" she said, in low, quiverin.
voice, "you have come back-at last r'
He took her hands in firm, strong clasp
and looked straight into her face with tn,
faintest suspicion of a puzzled smile hov
ering under his fair moustache
"My name is 0liver-Oliver Dean, h,
said in the voice she remembered 80 well
"but | can't imagine how you know it
Did my father write to you and tell you
that was coming? It's nice to be vel
coined like this; fancied should have tC
explain who was.
Miss Farnham moved forward-stern
practical Stella--with her treasured calico
gathered upon her arms.
at is your father whom we remember,
| think, she said, with difficulty sparing
him a hand out of the midst of the white
bundle which she held; "my sister recog-
nizes you from your extraordinary resem-
blance to him. We knew an Oliver Deane
many, many years ago-are you his son p
"Yes, he replied; "and he told me- when
l came to England, TO be sure to come to
his native village and look up all his old
friends, but you are the only ones | can
find"
He looked from one to the other of the
old ladies, wondering which could possibly
be the one to whom his father had often
laughingly alluded as "a pretty little Hirt
who turned all the fellows heads.
"Grace, said Miss Farnham, going close
L h"r lister and speaking very decidedly,
''this is Oliver Deane's son, =, mot tba l;Le.
ness remarkable? ?"
Miss Grace was smiling her own gentle,
patient smile, and did not seem to notice
anything but the tall figure standing before
her.
"You have not altered much, she said
dreamily; "you are just the same as when
you went away all those long years ago"
"Gracel" This time Miss Farnham' $
voice fell harshly ON her senses and made
her attentive "Go to the house, Grace,
and ask Jane to bring out some wine and
cake for Mr. Deane"
And Miss Grace went willingly enough
upon the errand, trotting nimbly away over
the smooth, well-kept lawn to the side door
of the house, where she startled their young
servant by appearing suddenly in the little
kitchen and announcing briskly:
"Quick, Jane, Mr.. Oliver has come back,
and we wish for the port wine, and the
fresh seed-cake, and three wine glasses
the best ones, mind-so bring them all on
a tray to the lime-walk at once, like good
girl.
Jane stared curiously, wondering who
on earth Mr.. Oliver could be, and why Miss
-a-rTrph rJacK agaIn, very swiftly, The Old
lady returned to the lime-walk, where Miss
Farnham was entertaining their guest, and
tearfully explaining something to him, some
thing connected with Miss Grace and her
forgetfulness, and how much she had aged
of late, and what queer mistakes she was
apt to make.
After this young Oliver Deane did not
allude to his father again, but sat on the
rustic bench between his hostesses and
stoically drank the sweet, sticky port wine
with which they Hospitality piled him, Then
at last, when he rose to go, u pair OF nerv-
ously winking brown eyes looked up at him
from behind a pair of speetacles, and an old
quavering voice asked
'When will you come again, Oliver ?
You will not stay away for so long again."
''No,' he replied, telling the lie with
praiseworthy promptitude. 81 will come
very soon.'
He was sailing for his home in Australia
the next day, but Miss Farnham had i'm
plored him-with a vague, underlined fear
which she had, all at once, been forced to
entertain-to humor her sister.
On the very spot where, years before
Oliver Deane had hidden farewell to pretty
Grace Farnham, his son stood and held the
old maids quivering hand in his. 1t tseemed
to her as if she were young once more, as
if all the weary waiting of the past years
had heen a sad, dark dream, and as if the
present alone was true, and sweet, and real.
So she lived in the sunshine of her little
romance once more; and when at last Oliver
Deane passed through the gate and away
out of sight and hearing down the high
road, Miss Grace turned back quietly TO
her sister.
i am puzzled, Stella, she said thought
fully; 'he does not seem changed in appear
ance at all, but somehow he is diffenent-
cold and strange, and not like himself.
aGracier Miss Farnham's voice was
shrill, and her face white and drawn
'Gracie, surely you cannot belive that tins
young man was the Oliver Deane whom we
knew when we were girls ?" Then very
gently: "Dear, what has come to you
Can you possibly think that he would be
Just the same after all these years ?"
at puzzles me, dear Stella was Mis-
Grace's gentle answer; ''it all seems so very
strange, and although l have been expect
ing his coming for so long, and felt certain
that he would keep his word to me, ye
still the meeting seemed to come upon MI
very suddenly. | am thankful had tn
strength aud courage to trust him-s
thankful" And as she spoke there wa
new brightness in her dim brown eyes
and the same vague, patient smile on he
lips. at has been hard sometimes, Stella
to believe that he had not forgotten me, par
ticularly when | saw how foolish you con
sidered me; and then, oh, the years hav
been so long dear-so long but yet sOm'
thing always seemed to tell me that som
| da,, ba ,rould aoma. and Sfall, Stella uo