The National tribune., 1894-11-08

thought, and the new color in her cheeks
became her so that she turned away from
the glass In confusion.
But he is just the sort of man not to
care how old anyone was if he loved
them"
Then the pretty color faded quite away,
and Miss Ringwood went slowly downstairs
| to cut out petiicoats for the Dorcas meeting
that afternoon.
For four days Miss Ringwooi looked
hourly for the Rector. He had brought MS
sorrow to her always; surely he would
bring his Joy too. Next morning there WAS
letter. It WAS not from him; she saw
that, while yet it was in the postman's
hand, for she had been watching at the win
dow, and had TO run to the door when she saw
the postman cEos5 the road. 1t was from
his hous sekeeper.
"Please forgive the liberty" it said, after
decent heading OF address, date, and Hon
ored Madam hut master is very bad,
and he say No Doctors He has been all
ing this three days. If you was to think
fit to come over, you might persuade him
for his good. Yours obedient to command
EMMA WELLINos.
Pm going out" she cried to her little
maid "at once"
The shortest way to the rectory lay
through the fields, aud Miss Ringwood took
it, She hurried on through the keen sweet
air, devoured by burning anxiety that
consumed all self-consciousness, all personal
doubts and dreams. When she saw the
blue smoke curling from the red chimneys
of the rectory above the laurels and cy
presses, she quickened her pace, stumbling
little now aud then on the rough pasture.
The housekeeper opened the door.
"How is hep" Celia had to clear her
throat twice before the words would come.
"But poorly" the woman answered.
"He was ont up at the Hail Tuesday; and
all day Wednesday walking the wet woods,
as l we'll know by the state his boots was
in And then he coughs all night, he does,
and the next morning he sends out his
breakfast, and so it's gene on; and he won't
let me send for the doctor-and-well yes,
p'raps it 'ud be better for you 10 see him at
once"
Celia clenched her hands as she went in.
He did not hear her open the door. He was
sitting gazing into the fire, with his head
on his hand and his elbow on his study
table His head was bowed, and Celia re-
allied for the first time that he was no
longer young. He looked, indeed, an old
man.
She laid her hand on his arm, and he
started and looked up at her with look of
sudden Joy and tenderness she had never
hoped to see. But it faded at once. He
did not know who it was; he thought it
was-someone else," she said to herself but
not bitterly.
You are i'll, and you ne-er sent for
me. And you never came as you prom
ised," she said, with only the gentlest re-
proach.
81 could not,D he said hoarsely, and then
fit of coughing took him, and he sank
back in his chair.
"But you are ill.," she said. "I must
send for a doctor at once"
But he could do me no good. What
nonsense it islD he went on irritably.
"Who told you I was ill2 Pm all right,
only very tired"
"Fve brought you some beef-tea and
things"
His brows contracted "Now, Celia, 1
will not have it. There is nothing the
matter with me-" The greved look in her
eyes stopped him.
"You always trusted me before"
al did do will! Celia, went to
see her. All is over. 1 have wasted all
my life on u shadow"
'She does not care any more?"
"She never did care, / think. She did
not even know me at first. She only
wanted to see the parson about her pew,
and sent for him as she sends for anything
else she wantsl She did not know me at
first, and-when she did / have
thrown away life, and youth, and hope, and
love, everything, everything, for the sake OF
woman who never was at all, except In
my dreams and my fancy. And there is
nothing left in life"
Poor James!" she said she had taken
4
him. " But all your poor people you still
have them to live for"
"That's what l keep saying to myself,
but all the sunshine is gone and it looks
such long way to the end"
But it is better to know the truth" she
said, rather lamely.
i didn't know, / didn't realize before,
and that was why / couldn't come to you.
Oh, Celia you don't know didn't know
till just now, all that you've been to me all
these years; and but for my own folly and
madness you might have been with me,
close at my side, all these long, long years,
for you did love me once, didn't you, Celia"
She was silent
"At least" he went on hesftatingly, eff
you had been my wife you would have
learned to love me-"
Learned to love you! Oh, MY dear !"
Her tone thrilled him to the soul. Her
head was down on the arm of his chair,
and his hand very gently and uncertainty
touched her smooth faded hair.
"You don't mean Why, Celia my dear,
my dear!"
For her arms were round his neck, and
her face against his, and for that one good
minute the long lonely years of sorrow
seemed not too heavy price.
Sand now," said Miss Ringwood, lifting
from his shoulder n face that had grown
young and pretty again-"An now perhaps
you will take the beef-tea."-Quirer.