The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1912-05-13


angry and spirited.
Something you don't know may
have happened" answered MIS- NV"
ard gently. Things happen 10 nen'
700 have an uncle who mas never
married Ny mother told me d 'i.'.0
about ii. The girl did not answer Ills
LETTERS. her father in her name sent
him from the door without expiana'
ton and she finally dismissed MN
in a nore-I imagine something IKE
tho note Won say you wrote. Don't
misjudge him
Il have waited twenty years Tor
him 10 clear himself" said Miss Cor
nelia 4 think that is enough. !
shall never mention him again =
don't see why | have at all-Dut
somehow you made me. with your
bright eyes questioning me! Shall !
get you a wrap: 1t Is chilly lor
May"
The matter Of Miss Cornelia's love
was not mentioned again. but the
Young wife and her husband came
very close to her heart. They ap-
pealed to her latent desire to mother
something. She advised. helped. took
them through several little crucial
times. One OF these was . quarrel,
very slight. when they were fxing
| up a room for Eugenia's uncle to
come to stay with them. Young
Howard wanted the older man to
come-the Invitation had come from
him, ,r ado and accepted for month.
The quarrel was some silly thing
about furnishing the room. but the
young wife spent the better part OF
two days In tears about It. Finally
Cornelia Braden marched over. and
in her militant fashion inquired into
the trouble
That evening she waited until she
saw Howard enter and followed
him.
Don't be - idi0ts!" she said to
both of them. He doesn't, want
you to tire yourselves out making
chintz hangings, and you ought to
let him worry about you. He likes
it! She likes to fuss for her uncle,
and you ought to let her-a woman
has to fuss! Kiss and make up.
silly children!"
A week later. on a night train
came the uncle. Miss Cornelia.
Weakened from her sleep by the vel
come almost beneath her window.
wished the old man-she had some
how taken his age for granted in
Halifax. and before dropping on
again remembered that on the NOR
row she must unbox. air and re-
pack certain Of her fathers gar.
ments which she had not In the two
years since his death had the heart
to touch.
Good as her intention she began
her day early. 1t was June. balmy.
dewy and sweet. Evidently the
Howards were not up yet. Cornelia
Braden, for all her forty years. was
good to look upon a. she emerged
into her grassy back yard carrying
an armful Of faded black clothing.
Her morning dress was crisp and
blue, her firm-heshed face rosy. her
eyes bright. There was hardly q
gray nair in her rudy crown Of
hair. With her back to the Howard
cottage she pinned the old.fashioned
coats and trousers to the line and
began brushing away at them.
If the neighbors had not all been
sleepy heads. they might have seen
Romance For mans head, slightly
touched with gray. thrust itself from
the newly furnished Howard guest
room A pair of broad shoulders be.
came visible, gray-clad, manly. The
Strangers gray eyes perceived Cor
nelia Braden at her work, stared at
her, continued to stare. But she
/ diu llOt ilulC.
Like all good housewives. she was
fighting dirt. She seized a coat
shook It, sneezed, and shook It again
this time upside down. A number
of papers and letters fell to the grass
She stopped and picked them up
turning them over. The stranger
still gazed at her.
There was something queer in hel
attitude. She stood looking down
at the letters, one hand raised to heI
head, and then she gave little moan
and sat down In the wet grass, put
ting both hands over her face, the
letters In her lap. her blue dres,
crushed In folds about her.
The man next door came quickly
through the window. leaped the Low
stone fence. and stood before her.
"Cornelia. Cornelia!" he said, II
the deep voice that she might have
recognised the night before. Cor
nelia!" II seemed foolish to say he,
name again. but Stephen Stratton dit
say It time after time. She looked III
at him. dumb. and he knelt beside bel
and took her hands In his. Then b,
saw the letters he had written he,
twenty years before. ave Of them, al
unopened. carried all those years In ,
hard. obstinate old mans pocket.
| Forgetful Of everything but him