Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-09-14

lived without her fourteen years. She
is sixteen today, Philip"
He did not answer. They stood, side
by side, leaning over the old desk, the
strange letters spread before them
Fourteen years have not changed them
greatly. The doctor is still shabby
and poor and hard worked. He Ia
somewhat gray, and there are deep
lines in his patient face, although he
is still what one would call young
man.
AS for Dimple, as long as she lives,
suffering or otherwise, she can never
be anything but a fair, sweet woman
Her wonderful hair, in which Moppet
used to play, Is still bright and abund-
ant. No dimples show in her face
now, because she never smiles; but In
her sober, black dress, which she has
always worn since her child's loss
with her fair hair and her melancholy
blue eyes, she looks unutterably sad
and unutterably lovely.
To this pair the fourteen yeari
mean one long, ceaseless search, hope
continually baffled, pain and yearning
and bitterness without end. The four
teen letters in the old desk bear thi
post-mark of as many different places
Willy Is the foe with whom they
have to deal. Every year a new ad-
dress is appended to the cruel, monot-
onous scrawl which comes to prick at
their sore wound. The doctor has
wasted his strength and living in the
search, offered rewards, sought again
and again to entrap his battling enemy
through the medium Of these same
letters; but all in vain. Fourteen
years; and he is still childless, and
Moppet Is still, as 1t seems, forever
lost.
And to think" says Dimple, touch
ing the letters with her trembling
hand-"to think, Philip, that we look
forward so anxiously to these-tnat
the great hope and fear Of our lives
sends from year to year."
Dimple has long and long ago heard
the whole story.
"Terrible!" echoed the doctor, sadly
"Yes; for she Is assuredly mad. The
way in which she clings to her belief
in my guilt, without proof and with
out reason, convinces me Of this"
"Mad!" the unhappy mother shud-
dered, "and she has been the keeper OF
Moppet all these years! Moppet is in
her hands today, suffering who knows
what! Oh, the frightful visions, Sleep
ing and waking, that l have of my
poor darling!-the dangers I see
threatening her! How 1 have prayed
to know that she was safe and happy!
How many times I have promised
heaven to be content with only that!
But 1 have had to do without It,"
"Dimple!" He gathered her bright
head tenderly up to his breast. Sor-
row is a mightier bond than happiness
1T had welded these two hearts in
dissolubly into one. Wherever she
is,' he said, "she is in Gods hands
There is no other consolation for us
beneath the heavens. Truly, it is a
heavy cross for such shoulders as
yours"
do l bear it alone?" she answered
bravely. "My dear boys hair is white
at the temples before its time-there
are crows feet under his eyes. Six
teen today, Philip-our baby, Moppet!
What has she been doing all these
years? How-where has she lived
: without us? She must be nearly
grown to womanhood. Shut your
eyes, dear, and fancy for a moment
what she is like"
Her face was upifted to his. What
a picture II made in its tenderness and
yearning and patience! The sunset
light poured in through the open win
dow and fell upon both like a halo.
81 fancy her." said the doctor, small
and fair like you-the image, in brief