Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1907-08-30

Miss Hepscy hung the tea-kettle
over the fire and sat down to think.
Those hens! Can Celinda be trust
ed to let them out In the morning and
shut them up at night? VIII she re-
member what said about the setting
hen, and the eggs in the yellow bowl?
MOI" said Miss Hepsey mournfully to
her own thoughts. IF conclude to go
to Portland, must just bid good-by
to my chickens before go!"
"Hepsey," said Aunt Mcguire, put
ting her head in at the door. don't
forget that gray flannel; but You
mustn't pay too much for 1t; I'd rath-
or go without" Aunt Mcclure disap.
peared. with her widows cap tilted on
one side of her pepper-and-salt curls.
and her niece unused on.
But, unfortunately, added eggs
were not the least OF her troubles. She
knew just as well as If Nine. Demon
est had told her, that 4 faded, brown
alpaca is no dress to make any impress
sion in-only a dowdy Impression
and that upon this visit to Portland de-
pended o. great deal more than few
yards OF flannel or o brood or two OF
chickens.
There was Hiram Stackpole. living
not three squares from the family she
was about to visit. She should meet
him; how could 1t be avoided unless
she always kept herself yelled to the
chin? She trembled at the thought,
but at the same time child herself for
. trembling. Why did she care for
than Deacon Nutting? He surely
would not speak to her unless she
would give some sign of recognition.
At seven next morning the Poole
Vile stage drew up before AuRt Ma
CURES door for Miss Hepsey. At the
post Office they stopped TO take the
mail bag and young man.
Why, Fred Tracy, how do you do?"
exclaimed Miss Hepsey, her eyes brim-
ming over with welcome, and the
youthful look flashing back to her
face, giving momentary glimpse OF
her departed freshness and bloom.
Are you going back to Portland,
Fred?" asked Miss Hepsey, the care
worn look returning to her face.
Yes; I've rusticated three days, and
that rs all | can spare. I'm In Stack
poles store" he continued, carelessly.
"Ahem! / believe he is an old ac-
puaintance of yours? ] happened to
mention once that | had cousins at
Pooleville. and then he asked me IL
knew lady there by the name OF
Hepsihah Dillon"
All"
A queer little sparkle shot out OF
Miss Hepseys eyes. 1t might have
been pleasure, 1t might have been
pain,
Yes. He was very particular to In
quire just how you We're situated"
At last, with the usual flourish and
energetic crying out at the horses, the
stage drew up at the depot, and in five
minutes Miss Hepsey was on her way
to Portland and to her fate.
With the noisy wheels Miss Hep
sey's thoughts few backward to the
days when she had been young
/ and beautiful Hiram had loved hel
then, there could be no doubt of that
His looks had said 1t Thousand
| times. And even II looks and tonei
and signs and limitations had beer
| all at fault, had he not told her al
his heart" In written language. strong
and unmistakable?'
She would never forget that letter
for 1t was the last he ever wrote. No
for lack of response on her part. Nc
she had written Immediately. and Their
had been no equivoeation in her an
swer.
And then the sweet expectation tina
had rested over her through days, an
weeks, and even months, until hop
deferred had made her heart sick! II
never wrote again; he never came
and II her letter said too much, or
en- his own feelings, she never knew
Somewhat less than a year afte
this, Mr.. Stackpoles sister Lucy, VIII
had come to Poo1eville on visit, die
suddenly at Fred Tracy's Uncl
Johns, and Hepsey was there with he
| EOOu SChSVs AGa ts1Q0 teS1Ss ASs A0AS
nerves and ready hands. when Hiral
came to take his dead sister for he
burial in the ancestral tomb.
He came into the darkened parlc
Unexpectedly to Hepsey. as she stoo
by the casket. putting rosemary an
Persian lilacs In the still hands tina
had unwittfngly done her grievou
wrong.
Nothing passed between the tw
old friends but such looks OF sad syn
pathy, as strangers might give an
| receive about bier. and then He
sey, who was needed no longer. weI
away, with her heart full OF wounde
! love and proud regret.
This was - years ago. She ha
never seen him since. And now the
would meet again. Well, what care
. she? When a past event is dead an
buried, why should its ghost wall
There is always enough to do ar
bear In the living present For /
| stance, at this very moment she ougl