The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-07-05

sprilg once more gave place 20 sum
I mer But. ali summer even IN roman
] flC Edna 'Scofla's DARING seat was
] not like summer among the far-om noun
I tains ana hills. Green and bonnie were
I the Pentland Hills. and lovely were the
l sunsets that Er up the Salisbury crdgs,
I or the dark and frowning castle walls.
] but there were everywhere about. city
I sights and city sounds, and u is no won
/ der tlat ODcH .onged 20 see once more
his native Highland nome.
T But 90 was aot % be- Il could not be.
] his meagrc salary was nearly ala requir-
/ Ell go meet household expenses and 20
] smooth the downhil Of lfe 70 his aged
I mother. So h. bore up against the newt
] able, ana tried % think as little as pcssi-
/ DIE about bis happy past. Why should
] neg IL was all a dream, ne told himself
] only dream.
But Sunday after Sunday many a one
/ wondered who the tall and handsome
I young Highlander Was-he always wore
I his native dress on the Sabhath-Wh0 used
/ Co enter church so mOlestly and rever-
I entity WIN the feeble Whlte-haired lady
/ leaning on his arm. Had people been
I told il was only C0rbie and Co.'S goods
I clerk they scarce would have believed TX.
/ ON fine summer evenings too. on SAT-
/ uroays, on Wednesdays especially. Allan
/ always took his mother 10 the park Cr
/ Princes street gardens. and surely q hap
/ per looking couple never walked along
/ The gravelied paths.
/ Was Etheidene heartless. that she had
! never written TO Allan2 Never a WOrii
I NO; as the story viii now show, she was
! not.
! II was one Saturday evening when Al
/ Jan and his mother had gone for a walk
/ in the park. that Flora left all By herself
! was busy laying the table and arranging
| everything on inc spOtess white cloth,
! as she knew Allans mother liked H. She
/ had just given the last artistic touch to
/ the vase OF flowers that formed the cen
! ter piece when there came 20 the door a
/ rev gentle taps. ut is one OF the neigh
| DORIS thought Flora, coming 10 borrow
/ a scuttle Of Goals. Master is far too good
| TO them. for they never think o. brinin'
! the Goals back again.
| She opened the door. however and i'm
! mediately after doing so staggered back.
/ almost talnung. "Oh. miss" she cried,
! gaspng. and with one hand TO her heart
! how you startled mel Are We alive. or
are ye Wrdith2"
You silly childw said Etheldene. yes.
/ shake hands and feel that I'm alive.
on are girl from the glen, are you
Yes, miss. I'm Flora, Flora McAlister.
! But on, dear Miss Talbot, why have you
| come! surely one so bonnie as you
Wouldna bring grief to my masters
silly Flora, No, child. no. have
come come TO bring JOY If that, indeed. be
| possible; But are they. not in? No?
| Ihen, child, l Will wait"
/ II was very humble little drawing
| room INTO which Flora ushered Ethel
dene. Its very poverty brought tears
| her with womaniy curiosity But what
| cared she for poverty. Here, on every
/ side, were evidences of him. The one
| man she had ever loved. Yonder are his
! BOOKS, As Wfting desk, his dressing
| gown and slippers, and on the MANTLE
piece his pipe Poor Allan" she said
as she took 1t up and laid Il gently down
again And here Is his Bible" An old
| fashioned one She opened It, Flowers
| faded now-but, all! we'll she knew they
| were memcntoes of happy times. Those
faded flowers she herself had culled and
| given TO Allan
But what is this Why-and she smiles
| and blushes-it is her own portrait 1t
| is in the book Of Ruth; and almost the
| first words her eyes aligm upon are
| these' lntreat me not to leave
/ thee for whittier thou goest /
| will go whore thou diest will i
/ die, and there will | be buried"
| Etheldene still stood by the table with
THE big ha' Bible. ance his fathers
| pride lying open before her, when Allan
| himself rushed in.
AS if by instinct his arms were opened.
| as II by instinct she was, next moment
| folded to his breast, and-weeping on
| his shoulder
He kissed her brow, her eyes. her lips.
| and gently soothed her Then she sighed
| a deep sohbng SIGH like that Of a child
whose mental sky is clearing after a
storm of grief.
But what means it all Etheldene?
| Why should our past be resusCitated2 All
| darling, il Will be harder than ever now
for me to descend into the grave of grief
! once more"
1T means thisr said Etheldene.
! Then she led him to the table and point
! ed to the beautiful words she had just been
| reading
ION. dearest this would be too much JOY
| for me. But child, l have nothing now to
| offer YOU am poor"
And so am l. Dear Allan, have come
| here to marry you. and share your home,
and ease your grief This may not be Eng
| hall lie prtn md a. Sc
| tural, frank, and right"
She drew herself proudly up, but look
| ing so defiant of customs. so pretty. and
| so like herself and no one else in the world
| that Allan had to draw her towards him
| and kiss her once again.
NO she told Mrs. O'Dell, soon after.
when they were seated at tea, my father
| insisted on my either marrying Minton or
| being no longer his daughter. l chose the
| latter plan. Oh, am as poor as Allan But
| my jewels will furnish us a nice cottage al
| Roseneeth. Mrs. O'Den, l have already
! taken II. You must come and live with us
| We VIII be so happy, and ! will contribute
| my share to the expenses for I can teach
languages well, and music too"
Dear lamb" said Mrs. O'Dell, "but sit
| uatons are hard to get"
"Oh, but have called on Professor d
and Y, and both We're charmed with
| myself and my accomplishments; and I'm
| sure" she added. laughing in the old sill
| very way; Professor D would marry
me tomorrow. 1 have secured pupils al
! Eeduy.
SO ii came TO pass that the lovers were
| married-oh, twas but a humble affair
| that marrlage-and soon settled down in
! their charming cottage in the suburbs, and
Allan's mother was happier now than
| ever.
Alas! I have something sad to saw. In
| crossing ford that was much flooded by
! the rain and torrents from the hills one
| dark night. poor Flora slipped and fen
from the bridge. At least they told me it
| occurred so.
"They traced her footsteps to the bridge.
But further there was none"
1t was getting near to Christmas time
! But neved a word had Mr.. Jonas Talbot
! written TO his daughter. There is some-
| thing about this mystic season, however
! that is very dear to the heart of the
| Saxon. and Talbot was Saxon out-and-
! out, as he phrased it.
| Il cannot" he said to himself. '1et the
| season pass without seeing the children
! Yes, Allan ODen is now my son. and
| poor dear Ethie, she must always have
! first place in my thoughts. What a brute