Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1893-07-06
FARMER TIPT0N'S NIECE.
Her Unexpected Visit Brought
About Two Happy Marriages.

ton.
His shouselteeper made no answer.
"In fact" added Mr.. Upton, II hate
'eml
Still Mrs. Martin did not reply.
"But what can do about it2" he re-
sumed. III I'd had twenty-four hours
notice, would have gone over 10
Cherry mountain or across TO Dunham
fair" growlcd Mr.. Upton; but here
comes this letter like a stroke OF light
ming, 70 tell me the girl will be hero to-
nightw
Mrs. Martin smiled little and went
on with her work, the picking over OF
black beans 10 make soup; for Farmer
Upton was particular In his eating,
and although Hester, the maid.of. all
work, was skillful in the use Of pots
and pans, he never could relish any
thing which was not OF Mrs. Martins
cooking.
~ suppose you'll have 20 get room
ready for her, +" said Mr. Upton. "She'n
have 10 say all night In any event But
/ shall send her back again tomorrow
morning. / don't want niece 10 live
with us. II had wanted anything Of
the sort, l could have asked for 1t,
suppose"
Mr.. Upton lived In pretty old farm.
house. stccp-roofcd and shadowed by
monster button-ball boughs-a house
where Tiptons innumerable had been
born and died, where every stone wall
had its associations and the very apple
trees and gooseberry bushes were de-
clininR into an honorable old age, with
lichcn-covered stems and crispy, dead
boughs breaking away with every wind.
1t Is, perhaps, unnecessary 10 add that
he was an old bachelor, as full OF whims
and caprices as ever old bachelor was
Nobody, said the neighbors, could get
along with him but Stella Martin; and
she couldn't II II had not been that she
and Thomas Upton had been boy and
girl together, and, somehow, were used
TO each other, In the days before Stella
married that wild, reckless young Mar
tin, who spent her money and broke
her heart in such short order, and then
shot himself In gambling saloon.
Such a merry, laughing gypsy as she
used 10 be, and now
"Why," cried the neighbors, "she
don't speak to nobody"
1t was lovely old place. IIollyhocls
clustered in the garden, tnngles Of vel
vet red swcet-williams bordered the
path and bushes of dark southernwood
hung over the door steps. To Mr.. Tip
ton II was the dearest spot in the world
Mrs. Martin used to bring the family
mending out into the porch, sometimes,
Of a summer evening, and look w.stful-
ly at the red sunset shining through the
trunks OF the cedar trees. But what
ever her impressions might have been,
she kept them TO herself
II Mr.. Upton did not like the idea of
young girl visitor beneath the ancient
roof Of Upton Hall, Phebe Cresshill
liked II stlll less.
you can send me out into the wilder
nesses as much as you like" said
Phebe, crying whole river Ganges Of
tears into her trunk, as she threw slip
pers, collars, cologne bottles and work
baskets, an incongruous mass, into its
depths; but | never, never shall leave
off caring for Harry Not II you were
to send me to Alasla!"
Child" said Mrs. Crcsshill, sharply,
"don't be a goosel The engagement is
10 be broken off, and there is an end OF
the whole thing!"
Through her tears Phebe could not
but smile TO herself. II was all very
well for mamma TO talk, but mar ma
did not know that the bakers boy had
carried at the bottom Of the basket of
rolls note to Harry llavens, and that
Harry knew, as well as she did herself,
that she was going to grabbed old
uncle down in New Hampshire, and
that she should always, always love
him, no matter what they said TO lcr
or whittier they sent her.
And so, in the peaceful purple after
glow OF the June evening, Phebe Cress-
hill and Mr. Upton eyed each other
with mutual disfavor.
"llow do you do, uncle2" said Phebe,
with stiff little courtesy.
"Ohl" said Mr.. Upton. "rhis Is the
girl, is it2 Yes. How do you do2 Mrs.
Martin, here, will give you some sup
per-"
And he went of to make sure that
the barn doors were properly locked
and tho hen house secured, for there
was II rumor of burglars in Quiet Val.
ley, and Mr.. Upton had the finest Al
derney cows and the choicest breed OF
Brahma fowls in the neighborhood.
at stands TO reason" said he, that
they'll come first 10 me. And don't
mean to be taken unawares."
Mrs Martin poured the fragrant tea
aud served the hot, buttered biscuit and
honey in the comb. Phebe choked bacl,
the tears that would come and tried "a
eat something.
"Will You go TO your room pow2" said
Mrs. Martin.
YES, pleased" faltered Phebe.
il was a spacious, low-ceiled room,
full of the sweet scent OF dried layen-
der, and furnished with shining cherry
wood presses and high-baclxed chairs.
81 hope you will rest we'll" said Mes.
Martin.
THANK YOU" said Phebe.
Mr.. Upton was hanging up his Ian
teen In the back kitchen, when Mrs
Martin came downstairs.
well, said he, did you tell her she
must go home tomorrow"
mo, ! did not"
"llumph'" said Mr. Upton. you
might as we'll"
As Mr.. Upton lay asleep that night
he dreamed that he was boy again at
an old'fashioned huslsing-bee; that the
corn was all huslSed and the barn foor
cleared of, and that he and Stella-not
pale, silent Mrs. Martin, but the gold
haired, laughing Stella OF twenty years
ago-werc going down the long links of
tho Virginia reel to tho mad music Of