Griggs courier., 1895-09-20

bottom enough to lot in the scent of
the heliotrope in the bed beneath it.
''Mary," she said, sit is three-and-
twenty years since I last set eyes on
him, yet my whole life has been lived
mentally in his sight. I have striven
SO hard-everything have done we'll
has been put before him with little
petition in my heart that said: Won't
this win you back ard prove to you
that / was worth better love than you
gave me?' Bu9 the plea has seemed to
go out into space, like Noah's dove.
and to come back unheard and un-
noticed"
Nonsense! What did he ever do in
the world himself? have heard moth
ing Of him for years; but we all know
that he failed in science and lived
lazy life in town on the money his
father left him"
"A contemplative life is often more
useful than an active one," Miss
Roberts pleaded. Don't say things
against him." and she put out her
hand entreatinglv. II do not know
why, but I think, somehow, he cares
for me still; and, though it could only
mean friendship and now-and-then
meeting, it would be compensation for
all the years of waiting"
''Cares for you!'' Mrs. Norton ex-
claimed, scornfully; IF he does he
would have come to you before this, or
he hasn't the courage of a mouse's tail.
Well. my dear, the train won't wait for
me; must 20. OF course, you can de-
eide nothing till you have seen him.
Telegraph before seven this evening
Yes or No. about Switzerland" She
looked down at Miss Roberts white
hands, and up at her face. mot good
enough for youl George, we women
are sad fools, and our reward is ac-
cordingly." But Miss Roberts only
looked back at her with the expression
of one who is waiting to see Heaven,
and feels that it is very near.
Then suddenly there was heard the
sound Of light carriage. The friends
looked at each other silently. The
wheels stopped before the house.
''Go, Mary" Miss Roberts whis-
pered; Il want to see him alone"
Miss Roberts stood still, her heart
beating. her hands trembling. There
were heavy footsteps, the door was
opened and she heard the servant say:
"Mr. Alwyn."
There entered q man of middle
height, stout and red faced. clean
shaven and double chinned, with a
fringe of gray hair round his bald
head. She almost started. Was this
John Alwyn? The man she remem-
bered had been slim and black haired,
with an almost supercilious expression
on his dark face and refinement in
every line of it. Thisone looked COM
monplace and middle class, almost vul-
gar. Could this be the one round whom
she had built up all the romance of her
life, this-this John Alwyn? She al
most laughed out, it was so absurd;
she nearly burst into tears, it was SO
tragic.
''Oh!" she said, with little gasp.
ut is you-it is John Alwyn?"
Eyes, that's it, he said, with smile,
more ready than in the old days. "How
do you do? You were surprised to get
my letter, weren't you? don't believe
you knew me for moment. I've al
tered good deal, you see; there's more
of me than there was, for one thing"
He laughed as though he thought it a
pleasant joke, and looked at her with
good-natured amusement.
cts long since we met" She almost
fell into the chair opposite him, and
stared half foolishly at his face.
"Twenty-three years, must be. Why,
you have grown gray. too, and you are
thin. Have you been ill?''
II am always thin," she answered,
with a little smile, land gray - of
course am gray. am growing old. ("
"Well, SO am l." he said, with CHEEKY
resignation, and he looked at her
critically while she poured out some
tea. "lm afraid we are both getting
on. was fifty-six last birthday, and
time has not only made my hair gray,
but taken it off for me, which is worse;
and you see it has made me as fat as it
has made you thin. But tell me the
news. never came across any of your
people, and was too lazy to look them
up. Are things in general all right?''
''Oh, yes, thank you; they are all
right" she answered, still wondering
whether she were awake and in her
senses. ''But I want to hear about
you, John-you don't expect to be
called Mr.. Alwyn?" she asked. with the
little courteous manner that was
peculiar to her.
''Mr. Alwyn! should think not.
We are old friends-we were sweet
hearts once. you know, Georgie."
''Yes," she said, in low voice.
"Pretty girl you were. too,-nice
figure and plenty to say; clever girl,
too,-rather too clever for my taste, if
the truth must be told. I thought it
a mistake when you took lowell, to
OVERRIDING it, you know. I don't care
about women who write articles in
magazines and draw pictures for pub
lication; I don't mind if they do few
drawings to hang 6n the walls,-that's
different"
''Oh, yes,-quite different"
"And how is it you have never mar.
ried? You must be rather lonely living
here alone; wonder you don't get a
niece or two to cheer you up. You
must have some bv this time?"