The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1898-09-06

siye days, leaving out Of account an in
appear, but only for day, and the re-
mainder of the week she was in her ac-
customed place.
Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday
passed with no glimpse of her. In the
later afternoon of that last day man
who could be known for doctor half
mile away made long call upon the
head of the firm. They conversed very
seriously for a few minutes, and then
drifted to general themes and laughed
and pulled their cigars as if nothing
were wrong. That fixed my estimate of
the gray haired young man at a very
low point in the scale.
There was no sign of her during the
week. On Monday saw unusual sights
in the Office across the way. First the
old bookkeeper came in, and while he
had the Office to himself he sat in her
chair, and l saw him shed tears Then
the young man with the corn colored
hair appeared, and upon my word l
was afraid to see him stand by the open
window, with such "a look upon his
face, lest he should cast himself down
to the bottom Of the gulf.
A little later the three clerks, the
gray haired man and an elderly person
whom | took to be the second member
of the firm just arrived from abroad
for l had heard rumor that one of
them had been in Europe nearly year
assembled in conference ON plane of
equality which only mutual deep sor-
row could have justified. After awhile
two clerks brought in some large paste
board boxes, which contained flowers,
for though they were opened in part
of the Office that my view did not well
command got glimpse of white bios
SONS and green leaves.
l think those men were all sincere,
but not one of them-not even the old
bookkeeper-felta grief that matched
mine. Nothing just like that has ever
come into my life. Perhaps l should
have found nothing sympathetic or at
tractive in that woman if had met her
face to face, but when that meeting ON
this side of the grave had become i'm
possible pictured her in speech and in
heart and soul as all that her sweet face
had promised.
l longed to share with those who had
known her the privilege of expressing
my sorrow at her early death-indeed
resolved to do SO, even at the risk of
committing an improperly. Therefore,
| when / saw the pasteboard boxes dis
patched in the custody of the messenger
boys, l hastened to Intercept them on
| the street. 1t was easy enough to read
the address upon the boxes, but there
was no name-only a street and number
In Brooklyn.
That was sufficient, however. l has
tened to florist and gave orders for
such tokens as seemed to be appropriate.
And SO that was the end The sight
of her at the window day after day; a
feeling of cheer from her bright pres
ence near me, and, then the sorrow for
the loss of one whose very name did
not know. l missed her heartily in
those succeeding weeks.
Even so late as September | had by
no means forgotten her or the incidents
connected with that time of strange and
fanciful sorrow. 1t was on the fifth day
of that month when man of familiar
aspect, yet certainly not an aequaint-
ance, walked into my Office. He came
slowly up to me and laid two cards
upon my desk. One was my own, and
the other bore the inscription, John
M. Douglas, M. D."
The name was not familiar, but the
man himself l had certainly seen. All,
to be sure He was the doctor who had
come to the Office across the way, when
the end was drawing near.
"That's my card, and the other one
is yours, isn't it?" said he.
| nodded.
"You sent it with some flowers to
81 De Vaux street, Brooklyn, on June
80, didn't your"
eyes" I replied, 'they were for
her"
And glanced across the way.
"Well, you probably have some
rational explanation for it, y said he,
"but hang me if know why you should
have sent that CARLOAD of funeral en-
blems to her on the occasion of her wed
ding If you wished to intimate that
marriage to me was equivalent to death,
it was bad joke, sir, and if you didn t
then what in thunder did you mean?
I've carried that puzzle with me 1900
miles this summer, on our wedding
journey, and now, by Lucifer, you We
got to tell me the answerp'
don't want to go any further with
this story 1t has come to point where
the recollections aroused are really too
painful Boston Transcript.