Lawrence democrat. (Lawrenceburg, Tenn.) 1884-1925, 1893-12-08

She knew too we'll that out of all Miss
Grace's long ago admirers this hand
some young ne'er-do-weel had never for
a moment cherished one serious thought
OF love for the girl who had, all I'M
known to him, given her young heart
into his careless keeping.
She had loved and he had gone away
-as is too frequently the manner of
the contrary individuals who people
this perplexing world of ours-and
there most assuredly the matter should
have ended; but no, Miss Grace, through
all the quiet, unevehtful years which
had worn away since that all-important
summer day had still obstinately cher
ished calm, unalterable belief that
Oliver Deane would come back again to
her, and this belief was founded mere
ly on a few thoughtless words which
he, at least, had forgotten as soon as
they were uttered.
wait until have made my fortune
he had said, half laughiugly land
then shall come back to this sleepy lit
tie village and look for wife, and you,
Grace, must be waiting here for me.
Poor Miss Grace! For the sake o
these few words she had turned aside
from the giddy paths of Irritation
which possess such power of keen fas-
cination for the young and Eighty; for
,their sake she had suddenly sobered
down from a gay and careless girl into
grave, sedate woman; for their sake
she had chosen to lead life of single
blessedness, and now-more piteous
than all beside-.she, as an old. faded,
worn-out woman, was still clinging
with resolute foolishness to the belief
that, somewhere or other her truant
lover was toiling late and early for her
sake, just as faithfully as she watched
late and early for his coming. She
would far, far rather have doubted her
religion than the factthat Oliver Deane
was coming soon, very soon, to redeem
his promise.
When she was younger she had fret
ted with all the natural impatience of
youth at the hardness of her lover; her
bright face had grown pale and sad as
she waited for the news of him which
never came, and her merry brown eyes
had ofttimes grown dim with tears and
WEAKNESS of their useless watching;
but, then, as the years crept on, in
stead of losing all hope and resigning
herself to the inevitable, Miss Grace,
strange to say, grew still firmer in her
faith, and felt convinced that her lover
was close at hand. All the world
might be false, but Oliver Deane would
never break his word to her.
So as every hour, every day, week,
month and year passed over her head
she rejoiced, for they seemed to bring
him nearer. She possessed one keep
sake of this supposed lover of hers a
wee painted miniature, enshrined in
large and abominable gold and tur-
quoise locket, which showed that
Oliver Deane had been quite handsome
enough to turn many girls foolish
head. 1t made him out as having a
frank, manly, Saxon face, with ire
proachable features and fine blu e-gray
eyes and bright golden hair and mus
tache, which mi ght have alone almost
explained Miss Grace's otherwise un-
accountable weakness and folly.
This, then, and few careless words
had fed the fire of her love for years.
poor Miss Grace!
II still am sure" observed Miss Grace,
after long pause, and with an invol
untary sigh, that Oliver Deane will
soon be here now"
Rubbish" exclaimed Miss Farnham,
vigorously: then in an argumentative
tone: ut is ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
that such a thing should occur, and, be-
sides, even if he did come to see us,
just consider how changed we should
all find each other! Think what his
age must be and how altered he would
be to when last we saw him"
''No matter what his age and appear.
ance may be, Stella" answered little
Miss Grace, with gentle dignity, "Oli-
yer Deane will be the same to me al
ways"
"H'mr' grunted Miss Farnham, con-
temptuously; but perhaps you have
not considered whether You may al
ways be the same to Oliver Deane
'Yes, dear; have considered" calm
ly, land as have trusted Oliver all my
life since my girlhood, I cannot bring
myself to doubt his faith and the
strength of his love now. lie win
come again, and we will be the same to
each other as we were on the day when
we parted in the lime walk"
The lime walk was, needless to say.
Miss Grace's favorite haunt 1t ran
along beside the tall garden wall
which shut off the high road from the
Miss Farnhams grounds, and here the
two sisters were won't to stroll to-
gether under the shade of the trees, or
else sit sewing or reading on the little
rustic bench down by the garden gate.
And it was while they sat here one
calm summer evening that the sound of
quick, firm footsteps fell upon their
footsteps which came on and on
up the quiet high road toward them.
Miss Farnham stitched on serenelv,
indifferent to either the footsteps or
their owner, but Miss Grace laid her
work down beside her on the bench
and listened anxiously, her hands
twining nervously together in her lap.
On and on the steps came, II Id some
one paused before the garden gate,
swung it open, and then
A tall, stalwart young fellow stood,
hat in hand, and looked down at the
two little scared trembling old ladies
who rose to gree him, The evening
sun shone down upon his golden head
and lighted up his bronzed face and
handsome blue-gray eyes, and Miss
Grace went forward with hands ou3-
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