The record-union., 1896-03-21

i
| DR.. Popham turned right round, of
course, and followed the man home
again as fast as he could make his old
horse CO. and that was the last that was
seen of him that day. AS you may
think, we were considerably worked up
to know what it was all about, and
especially what was the trouble with
the Colonel, and along toward o'clock,
as soon as tea was over, mother got
father to step down to the Pophams and
| get the news.
/ He told us afterward that the doctor
hadn't been heard from when he got
there, and Mrs. Popham, who had come
home in the minister's carriage, was
real nervous. But in about half an hour
in he came, and such a clean upset man
as he was father said he'd never laid
eyes on in the course of his natural life.
| 1t seems that just a few minutes after
| they had all left the house, a man had
ridden up with letter for the Colonel.
He came from Boston, and when he'd
done his errand he turned right around
and took the road back again without
waiting for an answer or anything else.
The Colonel tore the letter open right
| where he was when they brought 1t to
him, standing in his front hall. He
read it through slowly, and then he
gave kind of groan and fell down in
his tracks just for all the world like
| dead Those colored people thought he
was gone, sure, and when the doctor got
there they were standing around cry
| ing, screaming and wringing their
hands, and acting like crazy looms gen
orally, so that little Miss Lucia was the
only one with sense enough left to be
| trying to help her father, though OF
| course she was terribly scared, too,
never having seen much sickness be-
fore, and not knowing what this might
| be, coming SO sudden and all.
| But Mr. Popham said at once what
twas, and could tell Miss Lucia that
she needn't fear the worst, which COM
| forted her considerably, for she hadn't
| known what to think. And then be-
tween them-for the servants were too
| frightened to be good for much-they
got the poor gentleman to bed and did
all they could for him.
After SPELL when they had got him
nicely fixed, he lying quite quiet, for he
| hadn't come to since he fell, the doctor
remembered about that letter. The
Colonel had it clutched in his hand
when the doctor got there, and he had
taken it and put it in his pocket think
ing it might be something important.
So now he took it out and passed it
over to Miss Lucia, telling her she'd
better keep it for her father.
She had been pretty nigh stunned
with the grief and the fright up to that,
| poor soul, but when she caught sight
of the writing she called out that it was
Mr.. Leslie's, and fell to reading what
it said as though it was something dear
and precious and a certain help in her
time of trouble. DR.. Popham was watch
| ing her face, because, he said, it did
him good to see her brighten up so,
| when suddenly all the brightness went
away and there came a dreadful look
across her, she just sitting still, star
| ing hard at one spot on the paper as
though she'd been frozen by the sight
| of some awful thing, and then in
| moment, without a word, up she gets
and walks out of the room.
| She was staring straight ahead of her
with her great black eyes, but DR..
| Popham said he didn't believe she saw
| particle more than blind person,
and he would have gone after her to
| see she didn't come to harm, but some
how he didn't dare. And so, as he was
| all mixed up and troubled in mind, his
eye fell on that precious letter, lying
on the floor where Miss Lucia had
dropped it when she went away.
| Now, I never liked to think whether
by good rights DR.. Popham ought to
have done what he did next or not He
| was as good an old man as ever lived
and breathed, and if he was a little
curious sometimes, why. we all have
our faults, land knows, and besides he
| is dead now and ill shouldn't be spoke
| of him.
don't know as it was in human ma
| ture, either, not to pick up that letter
and read it, seeing all that had ap-
peared to happen by it. Anyway, pick
| it up and read it Dr. Popham did, and
| if he hadn't, it isn't anyways likely
| we ever should have known what all
| that dreadful time was about, or that
such of US as are left should remember
| it the way we do now. BY the time
| body has got as far as I have along our
| earthly pilgrimage they've seen so
much of sorrow and sickness and death
| that such things don't affect their
minds the way they do the young,
| though not, l trust, hardened toward
| the afflicted by acquaintance with
grief. We'd all have been very sorry
fol the Colonel and poor Miss Lucia
| even if we had never found out just
what their troubles were, for those
| were sad days in the house on the
south road. But when we heard
| Well, l don't rightly know how to tell
you what that letter said. DR.. Popham
| had it off by heart, almost, though he'd
| read it only the once, but he wouldn't
speak of it much He never would
have at all, I think, if he hadn't been
questioned just the first minute, when
| he was all fresh-riled and excited over
| it, 1t was a hateful letter, say, though
/ there were some that sort of stood up for
Mr. Leslie-how they could passes me-
| Oh, of course you can understand what
he had in his mind, and I don't say that
most men wouldn't have felt much the
same, maybe, but he might have put
| It little different anyway,sif he'd ever
cared anything for Miss Lucia. That
much couldn't have hurt him!
| It seems, according to what he wrote,
that the very night before the day set
| for his wedding, he went to a dinner
party in Boston, and there he met with
a gentleman that was an old friend of
| his fathers and that he hadn't seen
since he was a little enid. This gen
tleman asked a great many questions,
of course, when he heard that Mr.. Les
/ lie was going to be married, and wanted
/ to know who the yoH.S saGy was, and
all about it. When the party broke up
and Mr. Leslie was going home, the
gentleman came along with him, and
| &C Coop &c thev oat clear of 1icfanerS