The labor argus. [volume] (Charleston, W. Va.) 1906-1915, 1907-10-10
THE LETTER THAT
WAS NEVER SENT.


I
dewdrops on the flowers in the front
yard. There is nothing like a beautiful
summer morning to make one feel q
| delicious gIadness. There was more
than this to make LittlefieId glad. He
| had come home to spend a two weeks
vacation after a very busy season in
the city. He had for months been
working, not only days, but nights, and
when at last it became expedient for
him to knock OF he was presented with
handsome check by his employers
and a considerable raise Of salary.
These blessings led up to another pos
sible happiness. When Littlefield went
to the city he had left at home a school
friend or love; he did not at the time
exactly know which, but had since
learned that the latter word better e1
pressed his feelings. He had been far
seeing for boy of eighteen and had
contented himself with enjoying Louise
Phillips companionship without max
Ing compiled ton between them. He
| was going to another field to make
bis way as best he could without in
| duence or means, and he felt that he
had no right to enter upon an affair
| that might stand In the girls way
matrimonially. But now he was to
receive a competence for two he had
returned anxious to meet his old school.
mate and see how she appeared to him
after an absence during which she had
passed froIl sixteen to twenty-one.
Swinging cane in his hand, he step
ped down from the porch and out on to
the walk that lined the road. 1t was
not the best time of day to make q call,
especially on his old companion. In
| deed. he was especially averse to haste
He would devote the two weeks before
him to renewing his intimacy, studying
his own desires and those of Miss Phil
lips. If at the end OF the fortnight all
was propitious he would tell his story
and abide the result. But, though he
did not intend to make a call at
o'clock in the morning, his steps nat
urally fell toward the home of the per-
son who occupied his thoughts He
had not gone far before he saw coming
woman whose walk was familiar. As
she approached he saw that she was
Miss Phillips. But the bud had opened,
Every vestige Of the child had disap.
peared. He saw vision of loneliness
that made his pulses throb.
Miss Phillips?" he asked, raising his
hat.
"Mr. Littlefieldw she replied, start.
Ing. Indeed, she appeared confused, SO
much SO as to drop letter she carried
In her hand. Littleaeld picked it up
and handed it to her. He noticed that
1t was addressed to man. He took
fright at once. To whom could she be
writing? The castle he had erected in
his mind tottered. Then confidence was
momentarily restored. Why assume
that she was writing to a lover?
"When did you Gomez" she asked.
Last evening. May join your I'm
only strolling.'
Certainly. It's u long while since
I've seen you. You've not been home
since you left. I believer"
Yes. once or twice, but you happen.
ed to be away"
She was fumbling the letter in her
hands. Presently she dropped it again
Frank restored it to her.
"1s the letter hot?" he asked.
"Hot? How could 1t be hot ?'
ut seems to burn your fingers"
deep scarlet spread itself all over
her face. 1t was the breaking 6f n
signal flag. That the man knew we'll
enough. But what was the interpreta-
ton! Littlefeld, with n lovers prone
ness to panic. read, 1.-The letter is to
my fiance." Then hope came and sus-
gested that perhaps it was an accent
nnce Of fiance. At any rate, it was
plain to him that instead Of taking
fortnight to look over the ground he
must exert himself to save the day If,
Indeed, 1t was not too late.
Il think" he went on, that YOU had
better let me put your letter in nv
pocket, not having n pocket yourself"
He took 1t from her. she not resist
Ing. but instead Of putting it In his
pocket he took it in his hands prepara-
tory to tearing it in two
what are You going to do that ror7"
she asked
Something tells me that you have
written this letter without sufficient
deliberation-that you don't wish to
send it."
mo; I deliberated a long while.
There is every reason why I should
send it."
But one"
whats that?"
Love, or, rather. the absence of IT."
Again the signal. This time it was
not crimson flag, but troubled look
He tore the letter in halves. then in
quarters, then in eighths and kept on
ad inf1nitum. It seemed that be could