The Forrest City times. [volume] (Forrest City, Ark.) 1871-1919, 1893-01-20

II can find that out Mrs Webb
knows, and ! can easily coax it out of
her. 1t will be such fun
1t was morning-a blue skyed. breezy
day, with the air full of growing scents
and blue-bird whistles-anG soon after
the cumbrous old four-horse stage had
crashed through the village the usual
crowd began to assemble in the little
post office. Isabel Islay was there. and
Lucy FELTON, and black-eyed Mary
Crane. and presently Miss Genevieve
Seaman, tripping in with the peculiar
gate which the irrcvcrent village chill
dren compared to cat walking upon
walnut shells.
Two for Miss lslay,n said the old
man. scrutinizing each letter with pro-
volling slowness. ''One for Squire
Zuru bbable Jenkins; one for Widder
Hopper, and one for Miss Genevieye-
Seaman
Isabel flashed merry glance at her
companions as the poor little dress
maker tiptoed up to the counter, her
color changing from saffron to scarlet,
her faded blue eyes full OF intent
rapture.
is it true? A letter for meme,
And I've waited for it all these years
All-these-years,r'
She hid 1t under her shawl, cast de-
fiant look around at the neiqhbors
faces, and hurried away like startled
wild animal to its cover. She could
not open that letter with other eyes
upon her She felt that she must
treasure it to herself. like one who has
discovered precious jewel.
On her way home from the mill that
evening Isabel Islay stopped at the
little house where the tin sign: Mil
linery and Dressmaking, swung
creaking in the wind. The window
blinds were fastened back, the parlor
was opened and busted. Miss Gene
We've was moving to and fro in her
best India silk gown, with a flower
pinned Enthusiastically in her hair.
round red spot glowed on each
cheek; her bony fingers trembled with
excitement as she laid down her spec
tacles.
'Can you press over my leghorn hat,
Miss Seaman" asked the beauty.
"Oh. my dear, I'm afraid not" said
the little woman, with a hysterical
laugh. Haven't you heard? I'm
to be married very soon. Capt. Ed
ward Gleason you may perhaps have
heard of him-hc used to be a resident
of Milltown-he has made fortune. it
seems, in New York, and he is coming
back almost directly TOTO claim an
old promise | made him twenty years
hn hos
twenty years" Her eyes shone, her
voice faltered with the ecstasy of her
soul. And tomorrow he is coming
back to me. Oh. Miss Islay, it seems
lmost like n dream
She laughed again, but her eyes were
full of tears. Isabel moved uneasily;
she was almost frightened at what she
had done. The joke did not seem half
so iocose as it had at first, since poor
Miss Gcnevievc accepted it in such dead
earnest.
She took advantage of the entrance
of customer to slip out of the little
shop.
Girls" said she to her conspirators,
1--WE must tell her that it is only
Joke.
Tell her" echoed Lucy FELTON,.
What for? She'll find it out soon
enough. She needn't have been such
silly, anyhow
1T will kill her." pleaded Isabel
NO it won't. People dou't die so
easily" laughed Lucy.
Heard the news about Miss Genny
Seaman" said Mrs. Webb at the
boarding house breakfast table the
next morning as she poured the coffee
and helped the eggs and bacon around.
Isabel looked gulltily up.
No" said she. What is it?'
'Fouud dead in her cheer" said Mrs.
Webb. "A smilin' as happy as child.
Some heart trouble, the doctor says.
Isabel drew a long breath. So she
had died and never knew how cruelty
she had been deceived. She drew
Mary Crane and Miss FELTON, aside.
Girls" said she, you must never
breathe syllable of this to any body.
Let the secret die with this poor little
woman"
But she died happy at last" said
Mary. with the tears running down her
cheeks. believing that her old sweet
heart was coming back to her
''Yes, but that doesn't justify our
cruelty" whispered Isabel. And then
and there the three girls entered into
compact of secrecy.
Miss Genevievo was buried in shady
corner of the village cemetery, and on
the very day of the funeral Isabel lslay
met a tall, bearded stranger walking
along the street, scanning tho houses
with keen, troubled eyes.
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