The record-union., 1897-08-29

Il am old, and these things are dim
and distant. 1t is easier to feel that
than it used to be. | have only to
look in the glass and see things plain
ly, instead of just thinking them. 1t
is harder to be placid when only the
heart is gray. 1 am old, old, old, they
| believe me now, and-I believe myself.
And-to morrow shall astonish Toni"
The omnibus conductor put out his
| hand-an old lady could not jump in
while the bus was going. He stood
with his back against the stair, and
pushed her thoughtfully inside then
waited for a little, because old ladies
are nervous and tumble about for their
purses-usually. She dressed IN an
antiquated style, and her hair was
snowy white. But ripple went around
her mouth as she sat down
| Some old folks keep their 'arts
| green,' said the conductor to himself.
He helped her out at the proper time,
and saw that she reached the pave
ment- Her walk was quicker than one
would have thought as she started
along the street. She was laughing
| to herself. The idea of her brothers
| Mortified countenance, of his wife's
shrill CONSERVATION, was very funny
1t was a great street she was in: far
down it she could see the pillars stick
| ing out pompously from her brothers
door His house was the stiffest and
the most pretentious and he resembed
| it himself. Frances slackened her pace.
and enjoyed the anticipation of what
would take place when she reached that
| door.
| She was close to the first broad pillar
now, and she looked comically up and
| down before passing under it. There
were a great many people walking by.
But one, much taller. making them
| look midgets, was slowly going past,
| gazing curiously up at the house WIN
dows. Frances noticed him, standing
below the pillar; looked closer-and
then started, with a short cry that
made the stranger glance down from
these high windows. Then he, too,
| started.
They stood facing each other for a
moment. Colonel Williamson looked
| as if he had seen a ghost; and she-she
was gasping piteously.
us it you? 1t it you, indeed?" he
cried. His astonished look struck her
bitterly. She put out her hands, but
| not to take his-which he was too
amazed to offer-only to keep him Off
II am in hurry. Please''-she said
incoherently; and as he still stood
blankly, she darted into the passing
crowd and disappeared. He did not
follow her; he was too stupefed.
Frances rushed out on to the curb,
and waved her umbrella An omni-
bus stopped and the conductor got out
to help in the old lady. She seemed
very feeble. When she was safely in
she looked out of the window. Colonel
Williamson was still standing there.
Then the bus drove off.
X Il
The seven art students had come in
when Frances got back. They saw
her from the window, and opened the
door tumultuously and anxiously. Be
| ing nice girls they noticed things quick
| ly, and saw she was upset.
''Were you run over poor old thing?"
''Did you hurry after a train?''
| did anybody
81 am tired said Frances and went
quietly upstairs.
| Thev sat together on the sofa, and
| talked about the poor, dear old lady.
But Frances locked her door, and flung
| herself down in a storm of sobbing.
| Once she rose up and looked at her
self in the glass.
| ''Oh, my poor hair! Oh, I was mad!"
she said Il have made an old woman
of myself, and stfll-after all the years
and the sorrow-my heart is youngl"
| Then she flung herself down again,
and long white clouds of hair came
| loose and fell over her. She pushed
| them away with a sudden horror and
sobbed on into the dusk