The record-union., 1893-10-28

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forgotten as soon as they were uttered.
"AEait till I have made my fortune,I
be had said half-laughingly, "and then
shall come back 10 this sleepy little village
and look for wife; and you, Oracle,
must be waiting here for me-"
Poor Miss Grace! For the sake OF these
few words she had turned aside from the
giddy paths of Irritation which possess
such powers of keen fascination for the
young and fiighty; for their sake she had
suddenly sobered down from gay and
careless girl into grave, sedate woman;
for their sake she had chosen to live
life of single blessedness: and now-more
piteous than all beside-she, as an old,
faded, WORKOUT woman, was still cling
ing with resolute foolishness to the belief
that somewhere or other, near or far, 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 TACT that Oliver Deane was COM
ing soon, very soon, to redeem his
promise.
When she was younger she had fretted
with all the natural impatlence OF youth
at the tardiness 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 ut the WEAKNESS OF
their useless watching; but then as the
years crept on, instead of losing all hope
and resigning herself to the inevitable,
Miss Grace, strange to say, grew still
tirmer 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 kept one keepsake OF
this supposed lover of hers, wee painted
miniature - enshrined in a large and
abominable gold and turquoise 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 irreproachable features and
fine blue-gray eyes, and bright golden
hair aud moustache which might have
alone almost explained Miss Grace's
otherwise unaccountable weakness and
folly.
This, then, and few careless words
had fed the fire of her love for years
poor Miss Gracei
~ still am sure" observed Miss Grace
after long pause, and with an involun-
tary sigh, THAT Oliver Deane will soon
be here now"
vigorously; then in an argumentative
tone: at is improbable e-impossible that
such thing should occur; and, besides,
even if he did come to see us, just con-
slider how changed we should 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 or appearance
may be, Stella" answered little Miss
Grace with gentle dignity, "Oliver Deane
viii be the saire to me always"
HIM 7" grunted Miss Farnham con-
temptuously; but perhaps you have not
considered whether you may always be
the same to Oliver Deane."
"Yes, dear, have considered" calm
ly; ''and as l have trusted Oliver all my
life. since my early girlhood, 1 cannot
bring myself to doubt his faith and the
strength OF his love now. He will come
again, and we will be the same to each
other as we were on the day when we
parted in the lime-walk."
CHAPTER II.
The lime-walk was, needless to say,
Miss Grace's S favOrite haunt. 1t ran along
beside the tall garden wall which shut off
the high-road from the Misses Farnham's
grounds, and here the two sisters were
wont to stroll together 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 ears-foot-
steps which came on and on up the quiet
high-rOad toward them.
Miss tarnhafn stitched on serenely, in
di1erout 20 either the footsteps or their
owner, but Miss Grace laid her work down
beside her on the bench and listened
anxiously, her head bent forward, and
her two old bOny hands tWining nerV-
ously together in her lap.
ON and on the steps came, and some
one paused before the garden gate, swung
it open, and then
\ tall, stalwart young fellow stood, hat
in hand and looked down at the two lit
tie scared, trembling old ladies who rose
to greet him. The evening sun shone
down upon his curly golden head and
lighted up his bronzed face and hand
some blue-gray eyes, and Miss Grace
went forward with hands outstretched,
and all the pent-up love and Joy of two
score years shining on the newcomer
from behind her spectacles.
"Oliver !" she said, in a low, Quivering
voice, You have come back-at last ~
He took her hands in a firm, strong
clasp, and looked straight into her face
smile lowering under his fair mustache.
My name is Oliver-Oliver Deane." he
said in the voice she remembered so well,
"but l can't imagine how you know it.
Did my father write to you and tell you
that l was coming? It's nice to be well
coined like this; [ fancied l should have
! to explain who | was"
Miss Farnham moved forward-stern
practical Stella-with her treasured calico
/ ratherpd uOOn her arms
"It is your father whom we remember
! [ think she said, with difficulty sparing
him q hand out OF the midst of the white
bundle which she held; my sister recog-
nizes you from your extraordinary re.
sem blance to him. We knew an Oliver
Deane many, many years ago-are you
yes" he replied; "and he told me
when / came to England, to be suro tC
come to his native village and look up al
| his old friends, but you are the only ones
[ can tind.'
He looked from one to the ether of the
old ladies, wondering which could posi-.
blv be the one TO whom his father hac
often laughingly alluded as "a pretty