The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1908-04-25

ullnS III at tuS SCnOOiAOuSS uOOA dus
caught glimpse of Hepsey's dres
beyond only fold of her dress, bu
l knew it. The schoorbell was ring
ing but it did not say to me "turr
again, as it should have done, hac
been such a prophet as Wilmington.
I made my fortune. l had cousii
in New York who was deep in th'
mysteries of Wall street. He helpec
me; so did luck or fate. My mothel
wanted nothing but my presence
She would not come to me, but urgeC
me to return to her.
At first my heart was too weak tc
be trusted among those old familiar
scenes. To have met Hepsey would
have been too much to bear. But
time helps us all. At the end of five
years wrote to my mother:
II am coming home again, since
you will not live here with me. Ex'
pect me tomorrow"
mother had not altered much. But
had grown a long, light beard, and
was youth no longer-a fact which
troubled her. There were changes in
the place, too. Girls were married.
old people dead. The tallest, hand
soonest man 1 remembered, had met
with an accident and crawled about a
wretched cripple. The church was
rebuilt, and the huts in the hollow
had been burnt. A factory had risen,
and the factory peoples houses were
about it. Instead of the old frame
school house was a brick building,
with many windows and a cupola.
Who was the teacher? Was she
there-Hepsey Harrow? dared not
ask.
Idly 1 sauntered about the house
painted and refurnished now; and
idly, in the evening of my second day
at home, 1 went out to the shed
where the little red sleigh stood-the
shabby old thing, with a green patch
on the cushions.
''It amt been touched since you
left, Almon, said my mother. Poor
old Dobbin How smart he used to
take it round 1 felt as if I'd lost a
friend when he died. Remember my
patchin' the cushion ?"
She lifted it as she spoke. From
behind it dropped something. What !?
Of leather, blue with mould, crushed
by its long lying under the cushion,
but reticulc for all that. Hepsey
Harrow's reticule! 1 opened it..
There lay comb and brush an
artificial rose-how well l remem-
bered it in her hair land my letter.
Yes, my letter, that she had never
read, never seen, never known of.
What's the Natter inquired my
mother.
For few moments l did not know.
At last l spoke. 1t is Miss Har-
row S reticule. .
"She must have lost it when you
took her a sleigh ride, said my moth
SheesSs teaching yet; likely to--she
amt married no doubt she'll be an
old maid, and serve her right"
The rest my mother said to herself,
for l waited for no more.
l took the reticule in my hand and
went over to the long forgotten path
toward the school house. School was
over. A figure stood alone near the
gate. 1 did not at first recognize it..
On a nearer view I found it was a
more mature edition of Hepsey Har-
rows slender frame-not so slender
now, but just as pretty in the face,
and fresh and buxom.
1 walked up to her. She gave me
a puzzled look. Then her cheek
flushed.
"Mr. Craig p she said.
Eyes, Miss Harrow" I answered.
"I am here to restore your property.
You lost reticule in my sleigh five
years ago. Today I found it. There
is somethingin it which asked you to
look at when you were alone. |
make the same request now. May l
see you this evening -
She bowed. walked away. That
evening 1 went once more to see her.
She had been weeping. The letter
lay upon her knee.
"Such an odd relic of those foolish
old times" she said.
took her hand. "You never an
swered it, Hepsey," l said. "Wlll
you answer it now?"
"After all this time? :" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
She made no reply, but I kissed
her, and this time her lips did not
elude mine.
Our wedding was quiet one ano
our lives have been quietly happy
from that day to this.