The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1894-02-26

were Int few between US now. l did not
| know that the change was 10 NE, dnu 90
| resented it.
| And so l grew colder and colder TO tne
absent, and entered more ana ihoae , ne"i
| lily into new friend hips and interests;
Six months passed without letter from
| George. and when at last the well-kn owh
handwriting greeted my eyes was no
| bride of anotner-that morning married.:
| And while my aunts heart sweiIeu WIN
trium PHI as the lips of her guests saiuteu
me madame la cOmtesse. my Own was
beating sadly against the letter ieit thas
| had forfeited the right TO read.
1t was 10 merry wedding to me. Tor one
thought alone possessed mellow wou!u
the tidings of my marriage be received In
| the little brown farmhouse and by the
man whose promised bride l had so long
| been.
That morning / had laid aside the tiny
ring that he had given me, and as snon as
/ could leave our guests L went and placed
beside it the unread letter ! had just re-
| ceived.
Years passed before / returned 20 my
| native land. Brilliant, indeed. was the lot
| that had chosen. Title, riches, proud
position aDd a devoted love were mine
| and if cast one back ward look toward my
simple youth l quickly turned again to my
happy present.
The years of seIf-chosen exile had brought
many changes to me and those loved. My
| husband ana my cnlluT6n were uodus dbu
had ~ other ties in France.
| It was a lovely autumn day, bright but
solemn, the hush of the dying year like
| that in which left my home. that re-
| turned to it again. l had hurried home
ward as soon as / landed, not waiting to
appriSe my parents of my coming.
| AS we neared the country church the
| carriage drew aside TO allow funeral to
pass. / leaned from the window, and saw
in the procession faces once familiar.
| Something told me that one | loved was
carried to the grave that day. but dared
not ask. / ordered the coachman to drive
on. aud presently alighted at my home
| ALI was silent aud deserted there.
/ do not know how long l sat thus, for l
| was busy with many memories, before a
servant came round the house-a stranger
| in a mourning dress. and with traces of
| tears on her homely face.
| She looked surprised, but l think she
recognized me from a picture L had sent
my mother years before, for she came and
spoke 10 me respectfully. and when L IN
| quired why the house was thus deserted
she burst into tears, and IL was long ere
L could obtain the answer l half guessed
| already.
At length | learned that my father bad
been that day carried to the grave.
Years passed away. and laying aside
rank and its accessories. l remained with
| my mother, thankful to return to the SIM
\
still that tnere remained yet one to whom
l could minister. of all the friends of my
youth and maturer years.
George SanborD. still a bachelor, was
our neighbor and friend. believed my
self happy in his friendship. which
strove TO deserve, and nothing pleased me
more than the thought that the time
would come when he would forget the
SORROWS of his youth. and, in peaceful old
age allow my sisterly affection TO soothe
his declining years.
But one morning another autumn
morning, glowing but solemn-a letter
was handed me ere | left my room. l
read it with tears that were not of sor-
rOw-read 1t more than once.
And then l took from my desk tinv
casket that for years | had not even looked
upon. Bat now l broke the seal and
turned the key. L took from it the ring
had so long ago plaeed there, and hold ing
it in my hand l went down to the little
| farmhouse parlor.
George was standing there. / laid the
! ring upon his Oulstretched palm. and the
little packet he handed me contained
! witLered rose yet fragrant-as the memory
of happy hour.
| BY these tokens we knew each other uu-
changed, and thus we were second time
betrothed, and DECENTRALIZATION Globe,