Montour American. (Danville, Pa.) 1866-1920, 1910-09-08

Gu d glanes ~ inquiry at MIN In pasa
ing Fleeting as that glance had been
it moved the man with a strange sense
of loss and longing for the eyes look.
ing out from the girls sweet face were
the haunting eyes of Jerry.
This must be the sister," he con.
cluded, and he would meet her upon
the following day to learn how the boy
had prospered.
lie was waiting as she came alone
up the fragrant pathway. Miss
Dale?' he asked smllingly. and she
bowed her head in assent
II am Philip Dryden" he explained,
"the man who would have adopted
your brother Jerry long age had he not
deserted me. | am still anxious to
hear what became of him"
How do you know" she asked slow
ly, that the boy was my brother"
"The likeness" be replied, lis un-
mistakable"
ut is pitiful story" she said. Ills
ten, and | will explain
There were two little homeless ones
that night, Tom. the boy,"-she smiled
fnvoluntarily-"and Jerusha, his sister.
Girls did not seem to be desirable, so
this little girl, whom nobody wanted,
sat screened by a curtain of vines, lis
tening breathlessly as a woman tried
to persuade u strange young man to
find n home for her among his people.
She has never forgotten his laughing
reply, though it was all very serious
then, and the child's heart went out
to the man, who was u lonely orphan
himself. The ever fortunate boy
might have been made useful about
the studio, he had said, and it was
then that little jerry formed the
wild plan which seemed to her a very
simple way out of a great difficulty"
Glad in a shabby suit of her broth
er's, never dreaming Of failure, she
met you here in the twilight" The
golden days at the farm, and later,
when she had been taught the sin of
deceiving. Jerry reasoned that the
only reparation in her power would be
to relieve you of the burden which you
iau not desired ana 10 go pack again
to the only place she had known"
She was silent for few moments.
''The old housekeeper has been my
trusted lflenu' she continued ana IN
long letters we have rejoiced together
over the success of your remarkable
pahuhE. she put out hef hands I'M
4.
pulslVeiy' 1t Is ralher late TO peg
forgiveness she saIu' ana can
never nope to repay my great debt OF
gratitude.
Eagerly he clasped the extended
hands. My dear girl" lie said, "when
YOU speak Of debt do you realize that
it is your face that has won for me
both fame and fortune"
Then they walked side By side to the
white gate of the parsonage.
Il shall stop over here for n time"
he said at parting. This is a splendid
place for making sketches"
So she found him often busilv work
inc as she PASSED upDn her hOmeward
way. and they would linger to laugh
anu ltlh III lIAtIlllN LlSAlDl. II WIS
very natural to call him phiiip. as be
had taught her so long ago. and to
come to him again with her small per
plexities. And each day the man grew
more firm in his purpose-he would
take her back to the peaceful old home
stead, where the loneliness of their two
lives would be changed into happiness,
like the ending of a fairy tale.
When he spoke of this great hope
she resolutelv turned from his plead.
ing. 1T is pity, not love, which
prompts you to say this" she said and
ran swiftly up the pathway and into
the house. Neither could he persuade
her to listen to him during the days
which followed. while his many fervent
notes were unanswered.
At length peremptory telegram
summoned him to the city. and, pen
ming a few words of farewell TO the
Obdurate one. Philip DRYDEN aScended