The Press., 1894-03-15

erect, her face all bloom and radiance. As the pair flashed by the stranger turn ed eagerly to gaze.
 ''There's Maria Jane this minute,' said Jo Bright. "Ain't she good one to look at, though? And the young feller with her is Ned Brinley, that she's agoin' to marry; ain't halfnOr quarter good enough for her. Pm of the old chaps mind about that.'
 "Ah" said the stranger, with sem blance of interest.
 They reached the cemetery, it's careful ly-kept turf still verdant, it's quiet pre- cincts solemn with evergreen and the white dazzle of marble.
 See that tall stun up there ?" asked Jo, pointing to a lofty shaft that rose snow pure, against the dark ck-ground of cedars. ''Thats his monnyment. They put it up this spring as soon as ever the frost was out of the ground frost heaves a tombstun dreadful, you know. Wouldn't he have groaned at the expense! It cost an awful sight. But they had their own head about it to be sure. When the cat away the mice'll play;' and this time the cat was away for good and all."
 Stop here," said the stranger, sudden ly. "l should like to see the stone."
 "Oh, certingly," said Joe, getting down and opening the gate.
 "Stay with your horses, if you please" said the gentleman, decidedly, as Joe pre- pared to accompany him.
 The stranger proceeded up the walk the dry leaves rustling at his tread. Dead leaves, dead hopes, dead ambitions how well they meet together in this place, he thought. He reached the monument. The burial-plot was fenced by iron chains : there was one little grave, the first baby's, with it's tiny head -stone. Glossy-leaved myrtle overran the spot, dark pansies lent their purple glow, a mournful willow dropped it's long boughs near; all showed loving thought and attendance. He knelt and kissed the little mound, then leaned his forehead on the chilling marble. What solemn thoughts went through his mind of what might have :been-almost was , what contritions for the past and hopes for the future
 "Friend of his'n ?" said Jo, bursting with curiosity, as the stranger resumed his seat. But he received no answer. 1 They went acr9ss the stream, by the : foundry, the factory, and the store. The gentleman looked up at the sign on each. "They've left the old name." he said.
 "Yes," replied Jo. Ut was a good name in business. Great on that, the old man was"
 They drove on till the house was reach ed-the house with it's new wing and ve- randa, shining with fresh paint, it's door, i yard glowing with towering plants.
 "Why, what's this? It can't be the place '" exclaimed the stranger. [ "All right; here you are, sir" said Jo, sweeping up the graveled drive which had replaced the old lane.
 Mrs. Raspton sat comfortably at her sewing in the amended parlor; through the long windows she could see the hang ing baskets she delighted in, and the gay glint of fall flowers in the beds beyond. The afternoon was cool, and bright fire burned in the grate. The crimson cur tains, the dark, rich carpet, all wore a look of cheer and comfort; nor was Mrs. Raspton's figure, despite it's widows weeds, at variance with the general ef- feet. Comedy and peaceful she pursued her work, shipping off ttread now and then, or glaneing out.
 II wish Maria Jane would come," she