Year: 1879

My old schoolmate's child, Helen, IS
coming next week. Robert Brath S
mother said when he come in from his
work and sat down to read for a few
minutes. 'Ther's the letter on the win
dow sill, if you like to read it.


He took up the letter and read it
through slowly. One passage he read
over twice before he laid IL down.


4 never spent a pleasanter summer in
my life than the one I spent with you.
And if Robert is the same dear old fellow
that he was then I shall enjoy this one
quite as much, for you know Rob and 1
were the best Of friends, and have seen
no one since that I liked half so we'll.


lie sat there in the doorway with the
letter in his hands, and he looked across
the meadow where the grass was crini-
ling III the wind like sea OF emerald,
and thought about the summer gone by,
and the summer coming. In that van
ished one he had dreamed such a sweet





had never left him. But he had hidden
it in his own heart, and no one had ever
guessed what it was. Now she was COM
ing back, and the old dream must be
lived out again, if it so be that his will
was powerful enough to do that. There
had been times in the dead summer,
when it seemed as if his heart must
speak out and be heard. But his pride
kept him silent. Here was he, a farmer;
aud she was the child of wealthy parents
city born and bred, and he argued
that he had no right to say any
thing to her of love, because their
stations in life were 50 different and so
far apart. IF she had been farmers
daughter, or the child of poor parents,
or he had been rich mans son, with
culture and education equal to her own,
then But always the if III the way
came up to stare him in the face, and so
he crushed back the words he had al
most said so many times, and Helen
Hunt had never discovered his secret, he
felt sure.


He could not help feeling a thrill of
keen pleasure at knowing she was coming
back; but at the same time he was sorry.
It would only make ii harder for him
after she was gone. He knew that her
voice would hold the ono dangerously
sweet fascination in and her eyes would
| only make him feel more keenly what he
longed to claim for his own, yet was out
of his reach. But-and something of
that recklessnes which comes to all of us
at times came to him-she was coming,
and he could not help that, and he would
let the future decide its own affairs. He
would drift and dream, even if the wax
ing up at the end of it was bitter with
loss and life times regret.


The next week brought Helen Hunt
Robert drove down to the depot after
her. She was standing on the platform,
with her face turned the other way when
he drove mp. But it did not need the
sight of her face to tell him she was
there. He would have known that all
graceful figure anywhere.


1 am glad TO see you back, he said
coming up beside her.


His voice was not quite steady. He
had tried to make himself cool and self
controlled, but the presence of the wo-
man he loved unnamed him little.


Robert, she cried, turning quickly
at the sound of his voice, with glad
eager light flushing up into her beautiful
eyes. How they thrilled him She
held out her hand and there was no mis-
taking the genuineness of her welcome.
It spoke in words, and made itself felt in
| her face.


L hardly expected to SEQ you back
here he said, feeling that she would
expect him to say something, and know
ing nothing else TO say. Just then words
failed to come readily to his command,


I have been looking forward to this
for moths. she said. i WAS 50 happy
here that [ have been longing to come
back since l went away. 1 hope this
summer will be as pleasant as that one
WAS


I hope it will for your sake, he said,
aid his face had grave look on it which
her keen eyes detected at once.


What is the matter with you, Robert?
she said, putting her hand on his arm.
You look rs if something troubled you.
Ny coming has nothing to do with it,
has it?'


How could il have 2 he said with 4
little forced laugh. y haven't felt quit,
well for a few days, that's all. But II