The Baptist headlight., 1894-05-30

lures with her, one bleak March
evening, and Grandaunt Miriam had
never asked him TO come in and
warm himself
''lf you're goin' to keep company
with any one, Adeline," the old wo-
man had sourly uttered, 'Iet it be
With some one that can support YOU
decently. l hain't no ia th in these
sproutin' doctors"
There was the end OF it. Doctor
Hunt never came again, and roor
Adeline remained an ungathered
rose upon the family stem. She had
liked Francis Hunt; she had even
been wild enough to fancy that he
liked her. But Grandaunt Miriam
had decided the matter for her as
she decided everything else.
Yet ia spite Of this, poor AdeIine
cried when she put the old woman's
dog scared books and crumpled pa
perS into the fire, with the yellow
letters that Granduncle FosSet has
written her before they were mar
ried, and the lack Of faded faxen
hair that she had cut off from the
coftined head of her only baby dead
sixty years since
'Ihis letter is a different color
from the rest" she said mechanI.
cally, as she sorted out the ,discol-
ored heap "LOok, Aurora, do you
think"
She checked herself abruptly as
she fitted on a pair Of Spectacles Chat
first concession to the standard of
approaching ole age) and scrutinized
the folded piece Of paper still more
closely.
"Why," said she, 1.-The seal amt
broken! Why, it's directed to me-"
1t was directed to her, and in DR..
Hunts peculiar angular hand writ
/ ing that she would have known if
she had seen it in China or Patagonia.
She turned pale and began to trem-
| BILE.
'Why, Addie, what's the matter?"
| said Aurora, looking up from chest
or miIdewed garments, which she
was examining.
Don't come near mem flashed out
Addie. "It's my Ietter-I'm going
! w ICdu 1U lily ySCll.
Aurora looked at her in silence.
Its from DR.. Hunt" gasped poor
Adeline. "Wrltten twenty odd years
ago, and asking me to be his wife.
And Grandaunt Miriam had hidden
it away, and | never knew anything
Of it. Oh, Aurora. Oh, Aurora,
what must he have thOught?'
And the poor, faded little woman
burst into tears-the tears which in
middle age So fearfully unbecoming!
Its queer enough, amt it?" said
Aurora
''What would you do, Aurora?"
faltered Adeline. "Would you go to
him-would you"
II don't know what would do. }"
Aurora answered slowly Twenty
years ago is twenty years ago"
''But he wrote this letter to me,
and / never got it! And he has a
right to an answer"
"Yes l s'pose he has,"
Adeline thought it over all day.
There was no more work for her
She sat at the window, with the
time-yelloWed letter in her lap, star
ing out at the Autumn leaves as
they tloated down through the misty
air outside, MISUNDERSTANDING!
Aurora glanced at her sometimes,
but she did not speak. She herself,
hard-favored masculine woman, had
never had lover: she could not help
feeling. a secret reverence for the sis
ter who had attained this crown of
wOmanhOOu.
At sunset Adeline rearranged her
hair, bathed her face and tied on her
little Grape bonnet, with the stiff,
white frill in front.
what are you going to do?"
Aurora asked
Pm going to him." said Adeline.
"Tm going to show him this letter
and tell him all-how it happened. "
But as she trugged along the leaf
carpeted Autumn lanes DR.. Hunts
carriage whirled by. He was sitting
in it, and he was notalone. AS Ade-
line stopped and looked after it, the
| Doctor checked his horse. A pretty,
red checked girl got out And then
the Doctor dove on. Still Adeline
stood there, looking at the dust that
followed the wheels
"Oh, Adeline," said Eustacia Bent,
1--WE were just going to your house.
/ wanted to see if l could get you
and Aurora to do some sewing for
me. DR.. Hunt was taking me there
when met you. He has asked me
to be his wife. l am to be married
to him in January"
Eustacia Bent's fair, dimpled face
was all aglow: her blue, long-lashed
ewes shone like stars; the roses of last
June were not pinker than ner