The Nevada County picayune., 1922-01-12
When Grandma Was a Girl
By DOROTHY WHITCOMB
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those Sweet-faced, silvery haired old ladies who seems to have stepped straight out of the pages of some Sev- enteenth century novel. She ruled by love, but unquestionably, in the old house at Lynbrook
 Nobody would ever have dreamed of disobeying or thwarting Grandmother Penderby. Even Squire" Penderby, hot-headed and mpetuous as he was, had never done that.
 That was why the quarrel between Mildred, the old lady's granddaughter, and her fiance Will Hurlbut, was made up so quickly.
 "Quarreled? Did you say you and Will had quarreled, Mildred?" exclaim- ed her grandmother that evening, when she had succeeded in forcing an explanation of her grandchild's tear stained face and dejected spirits. How can a girl quarrel with the man she is engaged to marry?'
 Because l have found out that he is false" sobbed Mildred unhappily. "He-he-he didn't love me; he has never cared Tor me at all.
 "He cared for you enough to offer you his hand and name, Mildred" re- piled her grandmother.
 The old lady's cheeks had suddenly grown scarlet. From the day when I accepted Mir Penderby," she said, my will was his will and his wishes were mine, and l placed the most inn plicit trust in him.
 So the quarrel ended, because that evening, when Will came back ill penitent mood, Grandma Penderby led him straight into Mildred's .bou- doir, and made Mildred put her hand in Wills, and then wisely went out and left them together. And ten minutes later, when they appeared be- fore her, as she sat in her chair, knit ting, the faces of both were radiant.
 A week before their marriage Grand mother Penderby, who had been rum- maging in what she called her private store room, appeared before Mildred and Will, flushed and triumphant. In her arms she bore a heavy, old-fash- toned writing desk.
 "This is to be one of my wedding presents to you children" she said. And don't turn up your noses at 1t, either of you, because my mother thought enough of it to give it to me when l was engaged
 Mildred had often seen the little desk, but instincuvely she had re- trained from tampering with it. sShe knew that grandmother valued it highly When she opened it it was empty, and only the faint odor of dead rose leaves betrayed the fact that it had contained anything but dust.
 "We'll keep-what shall we keep in it, Will:" Mildred asked.
 Our love letters," responded Will, promptly.
 And then curious thing happened. The whole front of the desk flew open, revealing single sheet of paper, GOV cred with faded writing. Will looked at 1t and then Snatched it up and be- gan reading.
 But I must read it. he exclaimed. Look at this signature-it is that of my grandfather, Ebenezer Hurlbut. It may be some long-lost will.
 But it was no will. It was letter addressed to Grandmother penderby, and it ran ,lS follows
 My Dearest Own Elizabeth:
 "Your cruel words to ne today, though they have sorely wounded me, cannot quench the passion for you that burns in my bosom. So, since you have said that this unhappy mis- understanding of ours must end our engagement, since you have forbid me to approach the shrine and altar of my devotion, l shall place this within your mothers writing desk, hoping that some impulse will draw you hith- showed me, and to find this outpoW- ing of my soul. Elizabeth, you cannot mean that we must part for ever, that you will bestoW your priceless self upon that dullard, Nat Penderby, for when your marriage bells ring out my life will become unbearable to me and I shall end this wretched existence. Without you, life will become impos- sible.
 "Till time shall end, thine,
 "EBENEZER HURLBUT.
 "Jan. 24, 1857"
 Will Hurlbut folded up the paper and looked at Mildred. Her eyes were moist and her lips were quivering.
 "It must have lain there unnoticed