The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-06-11
THE ADVERTISERS .e .s ?
 = .s DAILY SHORT STORY.NJ
sLuIA rRuIrT Copy pubn.Alar

heard and smiled into the faded sun set.
 And the fates having been unusually propitious, the travellers started on
 their summer tour the next Thursday, assured that the house would be cared for, and that Aunt Lydia was going to bury herself in some poky old place
 in the country. a thousand miles from everywhere. and would probably come back with all kinds of cranks, just as
 people always did when they moped. At the summers end they came back. They did not have the appear
 ance of people who had been having a
 summer of unalloyed delight. because months spent in tiny rooms at crowd
 ed hotels and in stuffy sections of par Tor cars have way of taking a good deal out of one; but if they could only | find Aunt Lydia there before them
 they would be happy. because they | needed looking after and being cared for. Great was their joy. therefore, | when they came up to the gate and | saw Aunt Lydia leisurely rocking and | flaming in the veranda; but when they came nsarer they were not sure 1t was
 the same Aunt Lydia. Could that be Aunt Lydia?
 What had happened? What had she done to make such change in her. self in one little summer? As for themselves. they were Jagged out, and conscious of being even then dusty and haggard. with the curl all out of their hair and with a general untidiness upon them. What did Aunt Lydia mean by finding the fountain of youth,
 and getting the lines out of her face. and brightening her eyes and quicken ing her step?
 "Me;cy mel" cried Nell little dole.
 fully. T wish we had gone to the country! What a nice time you must have had!'
 We pictured you moping yourself
 to death down there in the back have been lonely-now wasn't it?" Not lonely-oh, mo-" said Aurt
 Lydia. with a smile that seemed to | come shyly up and hide itself tgain before one could be sure of it. | You see. it was the old place
 where I grew up-and then-I had
 friend there whom I knew when I was
 a young girl-
 | "Hello!" said Frank staring amazed | ly down the walk. There's old Deni-
 son-coming in."
 The figure had not passed the gate
 this time. It had come in. and was
 advancing up the walk. | Glad to see you, young people" | said Mir. Dennison, with an air of one | who welcomes his friends to his own home. T hope you have had d pleas ant summer. I suppose Lydia has told you
 | aghast, and saw her shake her head | and blush--actually blush. "oh." said MT. Dennison, moving quietly over to her side. Then
 might as we'll say that we were mar ried a week ago."
 Two shrieks and an exclamation | which was not a shriek greeted his an- nouncement; but he scarcely noticed them. He was looking into his wife's eyes.
 You see," he went on, i've were sweethearts long ago-when we were I a good deal younger-@he might have made a very pretty story out of 1t for you--if 1t hadn't hurt in the telling and she wouldn't marry me then be- | cause we both were poor, and she had | two orphaned nieces to raise. Well, | this summer we went back to walk | over the old paths-and we have been | getting acquainted over agian-and now the nieces are raised-and so last week were married"
 l Frank slapped his knee with a nasty remark and a vivid memory of the amusement he had furnished the
 family at various times, including | Aunt Lydia, on the subject of "old man Dennison;" but being a man, he
 recovered himself and uttered the re- quisite ciyilities. It was Madge who slipped up to MT. Denison after the
 others had gone.
 l You waited for Aunt Lydia all that | timer" she asked wistfully. The look | he sent toward his wife was eloquent.
 "She wouldn't have me sooner" he
 said simply. "I don't know how many times she has refused me. I suppose I | would never had the courage to ask
 again if had not seen"
 "What?" whispered the girl whose
 face was crimsoning, because she al- most knew.
 That she was lost from the crowd in the veranda or in the parlor. When you grow old enough to drop out of
 the crowd in your home you will know | what I mean"
 And as he went in, arm in arm with
 his wife her misty eyes were raised | to his.
 When Bob called that night, he
 found Madge rather silent. No, there was nothing the matter. No. she did
 not have any headache. and she was not tired-but was he sure-very, very
 sure-that he would love her always,
 even when her hair was grey and she
 wasn't young and pretty any longer?
 And we know that he was sure, for
 if there is anything young love can
 be sure of it is that it will never never change.
 WER Ra