The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1894-02-10
gUuT JEaN'S R0NaNCE.
BY BESSIE MAY TOBIN.

And to think | really hated the
idea Of going. When Aunt Carolinc's
letter came inviting me, mamma
thought it would be rude if ! did not
accept the invitation, as she cX-
pressed n sincere desire to see me.
But, for my part, / had always heard
II was the dullest place in Christcn-
dom; and if il hadn't been that
mamma really insisted, ! don't think
] would have budged in that direc-
ton, Aunt Carolino's displeasuro
Notwithstanding.
But | went finally.
1t was n queer little village. The
houses, ACKNOWLEDGMENT so
low, | mean, near TO the ground, rs
if all were young, but might grow
taller i'm time.
Aunt Caroline's house was the
largest in town, except ono that was
next door to it; and which was in
every point its counterpart and fac
similc. The two houses were exactly
alike, and with only a brick wall
dividing them.
Even the vines and roses on the
front porch were alike, rs if each had
been planned in exact similitudo Of
the other.
Both houses were in the suburbs
Of the village, and both had n pretty
lawn in front.
Aunt Caroline received me cordially
enough bat | took to Aunt Jean at
once. | never did truly love Aunt
Caroline. She was so tall and forbid
ding. Nobody knew her age, but |
supposed it TO be II long way into 80.
She was a typical old maid. Aunt
Jean, on the contrary, was all that is
plump, sweet and fair, with dimplcs
in her cheeks, and the daintiest little
plump white hands.
There was nothing so sweet as
Aunt Jeans face, and nothing SO sad.
Yes; Aunt Jean was an Old maid,
too, but she didn't look it; for she
was certainly the gentlcst, sweetest
creature i'm the world.
II struck me as somewhat singular
that all the windows and blinds on
the side of the house next its twin
sister were invariably drawn i'm or
pulled down and neither my aunts
nor any Of the servants ever mon
toned the neXt-door neighbor, or
seemed TO be in any way conscious
that there was II house ON the other
side Of the brick wall.
That there were inmates to il |
knew, for | had seen people on the
piazzas and in the garden, notably II
a very good-looking young man.
One day | boldly put the question
to my aunts as to the name and con
dition Of u neighbors; but | was
silenced so peremptorily and unsatis-
factorily by Aunt Caroline, and saw
such a painful expression come to my
Aunt Jeans face that | dared not
press the subject further, yet deter
mined to get at the bottom Of the
mystery, for it was n mystery, Ly
some means of my own making.
| disliked to question the servants,
feeling n delicacy i'm SO doing, but
bided my time until something should
turn up to unfold the secret.
| had been there about three weeks,
when one day | took Il book and went
down into the orchard to read. | was
thrown upon my own for
entertainment, outside my two aunts'
society. ! really enjoyed chatting
with Aunt Jean-for, thus far, | had
met none OF the young people Of the
village, which ! thought was rather
strange.
The truth was-I found out later
hat my Aunt Caroline's sharp tongue
had made her unpopular; and Aunt
Jean was so sad and timid that it
was very seldom anybody ever came
TO the house,
Well, this particular morning |
took a book into the orchard. and
finding n very ''shadie uooke" where a
huge old elm tree stood right up
against the wall, making a very
pleasant seat with a back to it, |
climbed upon the wall, and, delic-
iously ensconced in the shade
nooke," l gave myself up to the
luxury of an interesting story.
II wasn't n very romantic thing Ia
do. il a natural one, but after n halt
hour or so | got drowsy and fell asleep
against the old elm tree, and pres
emily my book tumbled out Of my
hand, and of course on the wrong side
Of the wall. | woke with n start
first, TO bless heaven that | had not
gone over myself, and then TO con-
clude that il was n most distressing
piece OF I'll luck that my book should