The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1893-06-01

land. with house. farm bunIIngs
pnd every appointment Of a first class
property. There was new railway
creeping up. which would double its
value in few years time, and it was
for me to say. after had seen the place,
whether ! should let 1t or wait or sell it
right out. | wrote the lawyer, saying
that for the present would take it in
hand till the corn was safely harvested.
SO one thing leads on to another, and
we prepare our own destiny without
knowing it. But had looked at things
In practical way and according to my
lights, and the notary commended me.
and Doris sent a letter along saying,
"Yes. Jack, but don't tarry the thrash
ing too" which was only sweetheart
like
The weeks passed on. and | found
plenty to occupy and interest me, as was
natural. let Boss Wilson keep much
Of his authority-he had been in charge
of the farm since the death, and his To-
quacious company was not disagreeable
after had learned TO know him. One
day in the town near by happened upon
q Worcester man-one Henshaw--and
his clannish good feeling made the place
still less lonely. Then every week Doris
wrote down her little heart for me to
read it, and | sent her an account OF
mine: and all the while the same sun
warmed us and the same moon set MS
thinking one of the other when the day
was over and our souls skipped out for
game at dreams. She was there. and !
was here, and soon there would be no
there and here. but only one place and
we in it.
Thinking to this tune | jumped into
the saddle one August morning and rode
to the postoffice for the usual weekly
letter. always rode over, because the
postboy who passed us on his way to the
next settlement waited for the second
mail at noon. met Mr.. Henshaw at
the door of the office. with two letters
and newspaper in his hand.
"Mornin. Mr.. Sedley." said he; lot o
letters this mail. Let me hold the cob
till you come out"
That was the beginning Of it-there
was no letter. rejoined Henshaw and
walked down with him to his store.
heavy with disappointment.
Like to see the paperr" said he as
was leaving after ordering some supplies
of his man. faint often get one.
but my brothers hayricks a bin blazin,
an he's sent the account of it. Art new
hay, too. an on'y part insured. Amt il
pityT"
I nd
through the columns for news that
might interest me. only learned that
there had been regatta mt Evesham,
and that our old doctor at Ranstoi. had
sold his practice to DR.. Robson-that
was all. But as | rode home | kept
muttering that doctors name, wonder.
ing where had heard it before, till sud
denly it came to me, bringing lot of
something else with it.
Why had Doris never mentioned him
beyond the postscript in her first letter
weeks ago? | had clean forgotten she
had cousin Stephen. so little did heed
him. but he was still at Ranston, still
perhaps an inmate of her home. Why
Here | dropped the reins and drew
out her last letter to steady me. read
it through. and the dear words brought
Kindness back. and kissed her name at
the end, saying some one was fool.
But the doubt had found entrance and
grew, as cancers do, without our know.
ing it. for the days went on, and no let
ter came, no sign, till grew half wild
at the cruelty of it. | wrote, reproaching
her and another week went and an
other. At last the letter came. The post
boy handed it to me as | stood at the
gate-l dare say he wondered why was
always there-and ripped it open, while
my heart pumped fit to break itself.
Then the paper dropped from my hands.
and held on to the gate with singing
in my ears and sudden weakness in
seeing which darkened the sun and all
beneath it.