The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-11-20

near 1t Is intrusive a sort OF compulsory
confessional. Just imagine some communi-
cation Of yours or mine, full of condolences
and even sacred sentiments--if men of the
world like u.s. were to write such things
going through that awful mill-words which
ought to be absolutely private and in
violable passing under the scrutiny of eyes
that cannot be impersonal and minds that
must be full of curiosity, perhaps of con-
You make me think" said his host, "of
a strange story Nevins, in that department
told me only few months ago. 1t was
about letter that was found some twenty
years after it was written"
Twenty years. 1t seems incrediblei'
That's what makes it interesting" re-
piled the official, for it was true. You
would never guess how 1t happened. The
letter was mailed in one of our Eastern
towns, but it had got caught some way in
the hinge or in a crevice, / don't remem-
Der, which of the street letter box it was
put into. sbeing small note in a small en-
velope. of course. How it stayed there so
long it is hard to understand AT any rate,
1t was found when they took the box Oft
kind
And did it reach the writer through the
dead letter Officer Malvern asked.
He was gazing dreamily into the fire of
glowing. broken oak and noticed there one
black. charred stick that projected from the
smoldering pieces It had the pointed shape
of a hunting dogs head the jaw a seam of
red ember from which the thin smoke
foated upward, giving the whole a curious
resemblance to small dragon, and as NAL
vern listened to the answer to his question
he could hardly tell for moment whether
the sound came from that odd fire dragon
or from his friend from whose lips also a
wreath Of smoke was drifting;
NO they could not find the writer. 1t
was one of those confessional letters you
were imagining just now. 1t was from a
girl who must have had q quarrel with her
lover, probably very penitent and all that;
began, Nevins said, something like, Dear
John-You had barely left the house when
l realized how utterly wrong and unreas-
enable had been and so forth, don't you
know You can imagine what a girl under
those circumstanees would write"
Yes, said Malvern almost to himself.
II can imagine"
The mysterious dog. or dragon, in the fire
darted, out tongue Of flame that not only
lighted the faces of the two men, but
seemed to Malvern to be family iiluminat-
ing something in the past as we'll His host,
pleased with the effectiveness of his story,
went on: She implored him to come back
and forgive her, and so on. Nevins said it
positively wrung his heart to read it. He
fanciedei he could see tears falling on the
but good Cod" cried Malvern, spring.
ing up Indignantly. the letter wasn't writ
His official friend was amazed at his ex-
element but replied: "Of course not. But
can't you understand? Well, the girl went
own ong-doing in throwing him over and
so mortified at having to confess it that
she could never speak to him or look at him
if he did not come back to her at once.
Then. Womanlike, she said she would wait
for him until Christmas or Thanksgiving, or
some. such holiday, when they were to dine
Fit was Thanksgiving, wasn't it?" de-
manded Malvern, sharply, wheeling away
host.
AS If famed by an unseen hand, the flick
ering flame on the charred stick grew into
two long bright arms that waved and beck
oned him.
I'm sure don't know" was the answer
''It was something of the kind. They were
so inip
that they took unusual pains to find out
something further and get the letter into
near, but it was no use, and the little note
finally went the way Of all dead letters that
cannot be returned-it was destroyed"
But the person to whom it was ad-
"Unknown." said the official, 'the address
illegible from long exposure, but the girls
name, / think NevinS said, was Lily-John
and Lily. That's all that was known"
Are you sure the name was John?" NAL
vern inquired earnestly.
Not for me-" Malvern shook his head.
"And the date?'
ASK Nevins," returned his host who now
began to look uneasily at the distinguished
guest as, though suspecting him Of sudden
II wiIl!'' declared Malvern. "Pll hunt
up Nevins at once"
And, disregarding his hosts curiosity and
rising alarm, he babe him hasty good
night and left the house.
Nevinss memory was good. He could
not tell exactly when the note was posted,
but he did recall that 1t was written not to
a John, but to Dick, and he was positive
that the dinner was to have been on
Thanksgiving day.
And she said she would waltz" asked
Malvern for the third time.
Eyes, but that was twenty years ago-to-
morrow" laughed Nevins
Apparently Malvern heard only. the Yves, :
for he did not join in the laugh. Instead
he asked eagerly, Can I get an express
east before morning?"
All night long the iron chorus of the car
wheels sang in his ears a song of joy.
through which ran a minor chord, a. chord
which sounded like the rustling of leaves.
In his eyes was but one scene-a girl in a
pale violet dress, with her arms stretched
out toward him.
doing to wonder what he should do If
she should not be there. Could she really
be waiting for him still? There were. yet a
few glorious leaves of autumn clinging to
the tree branches.
When the sun arose his confidence re-
turned III in t full s ST In ba his aa
matured. but still with the same eyes, the
same voice, the same ways that had pleased
him years ago, a woman who could under
stand him row, who could help him enjoy
his hard-earned success
Grey? Grey?' repeated the hack driver
at the Windbury station. mo, don't know
Malvern leaned heavily against the car
riage door
the hickman lis Miss Grey, the lady what
lives all by herself in the big house up on
the kill"
Malvern jerked open the carriage door and
Drive therer he said.
Not quite as he had pictured her, but al
most. she met him in the subdued light of
DICK" she said. ST knew you would
time It's just being served. There's the
bell"