Middletown transcript., 1907-02-02

H6fSf HlGy HuSG 90 itlUo lelli -
ment and live most carefully; she
could not waste her time in Mon
treal any more
Jack was out of town when she
went, but she felt sure that he
would write, and her heart was
happy when she said good bye
to Montreal.
Bat that was two years ago,
and no letter had come. From
her friend she had heard Of young
Dudley's sudden departure for
England, on the news of his
fathers illness, and that was all.
Then had come their move to
this little farm in a backwoods
settlement, and a series of un-
successful experiments in farm
ing on the part of Uncle Castle
ton Agnes had borne more than
her share in all the work and
frightened the home-life wonder
fully, though her uncle was loath
to admit it.
A little less than a year before
this snowy February morning,
Mr.. Castleton died after a very
short illness. His wife knew
nothing Of business, and their
pecuniary affairs were pro-
found mystery to her. They had
just enough to live on, very care
fully, it seemed, and she stayed
on at the little farm house, un-
able to decide on any course Of
action. II vain Agnes tried to
persuade her that they did not
know enough of farming to make
it pay; that they ought to be
somewhere where she (Agnes)
could teach or work in some way,
but Mrs. Castleton's usual reply
was: Your poor uncle left no
directions; | really don't know
what to do, my dear.
AS Agnes tramped on, this Feb
ruary morning, she wondered if
all her life was to pass in this
way. Yet she scarcely knew
what made her SO dissatisfied.
She loved the country; Aunt Cas-
tleton was kindness itself, though
not much more companionable
than wax doll perhaps it was
the sense of wasted effort that
disturbed her mind. Perhaps
perhaps = she shrugged her
shoulders impatiently, and de-
termined not 20 think of hap
pier days. Anyone who has tried
not to thing Of some particular
subject knows just how success
full it is apt to be. By the time
Agnes turned into the wood road
under heavy laden boughs of
spruce and fir, a pair Of brown
eyes and certain sweet smile
on "a grave face were holding
sway of her memory.
Her feet turned unconsciously
toward the little hut she had
built for herself with a little
assistance from John-in the
summer. Here she used to bring
her painting materials and a book
and spend enchanted hours in
the green, sweet,smelling soli-
tude.
Her drifting thoughts were in
terrupted by a low whine from
Bevis, who had pushed past her
and plunged eagerly forward to
the doorway of the hut. Startled
and somewhat alarmed, Agnes
followed him then stopped short
in dismay. There, in a, huddled
heap ON the snowy floor, half
filing her little hermitage, lay a
man, the snow partly drifted over
him. Was he dead? Agnes
hesitated, then STOPPING under
the low doorway, entered, and
gently drew his arms from his
face.
She was on her knees beside
him in a moment, the white, un-
seeing face clasped close.
Jack, dear Jack Dprling,
darling boy
She knew that he was dead,
and in the transports of Ter grief
and tenderness all petty consid-
erations fell to nothingness.
Pride, wounded vanity, unbelief
in his love, scorn of self for Civ
ing love unsought-all vanished
in the one supreme realization of
what he was to her, and what
life would De without him.
Her tears fell fast on his face.
She drew back to dash them
aside-and the brown eyes
opened vide in a look Of un.
'utterable content. AT first the
mere JOY of seeing lin alive
kept all other thoughts far off,
and her incoherent murmur Of
Aren't you dead ? was very close
to his ear.