Year: 1879

lace toward the spreading fieius and
shady groves, and contented peaceful
homes of Gods own land, the country.
He did not know what he should do
there he had not a friend in the wide
world, he thought, who cared whether he
died or lived. Where his uncle-the un-
happy cause of his misfortune-had
gone, he did not know. He only knew
that he was alone, and discouraged,
turning with longing heart from the
hot and dusty city streets, to the fresh,
green meadows of the country.


He went. For two days he tramped
slowly along, but still that same help
lessness Of ignorance was his bane and
barrier. He was sick, very sick, and
knew not. where he might lay his weary
head. At last he fell and knew no
more.


After the long blank and darkness, he
had dreamy sense ofa pleasant shaded
room; of vine covered windows filled
with fresh, pure flowers; of a kind,
hearty, rugged face that came and
looked at him, and then spoke cheer
ingly to another kind and motherly
face that hovered over him, oftener,
and smoothed his pillows, and brushed
back his clustering hair, matted with
his restless fever tossing; of another
face-another angel he dreamed
younger, so fresh and sweet that the
very sight of it seemed to put him far
on the road to health again.


This face did not come as often as the
other. 1t would steal softly in for
moment with the other faces; and even
then il he happened to be awake, it
would dart out again in frightened
manner, and as the days passed and he
grew better, it did not come at all and
then he grew impatient to get we'll and
find where it had gone.


At last the pleasant morning came
when he was well enough to walk out
and sit upon the pleasant porch; and
then unasked by them, for they we're
too kind to intrude upon his secrets, he
told them all his story, and they listened
and gave him their sympathy; the one
face-that timid, fresh, young one
was bathed in tears behind the leafy
screen, where it had crept unseen.


He had found his haven at last. Far
mer Royston-good, worthy soul that
he was, offered him a refuge, a place
where he could earn his living; and he
went to work His whole heart was
bent upon learning, and he progressed
rapidly in the duties of the farm; and
not these only. He made just as rapid
way into the affections of the family.
But of the shy young heart in particu-
lar, he could not feel SO sure. That
very shyness that added such a charm
to the sweet, young beauty, interposed
an almost insurmountable barrier to
her confidence. He could not tell how
she regarded him she was so shy and re-
served, scarcely ever speaking to him,
and never remaining alone with him
a moment.


The months rolled on and he had
been there year. In that year of in
dependence and healthy labor, he had
grown stronger and ruggeder and hand
somer than ever. He had improved in
mind, also, for though his accomplish
ments were thrown aside, he had gained
store of practical knowledge that was
invaluable to him; and more, he was
desperately in love. The young shy face
had conquered him completely.


One pleasant summer evening he
strolled down beside the river, and un-
expectedly came upon Hattie Royston
sitting silently beside the old tree that
grew upon the waters edge. She started
to her feet and would have run away,
but he gently detained her with his
arm.


"Why do you always avoid me, Hat
tie?'' he asked, trying TO see her averted
face.


She made no reply and only turned
further away from him.


"Do you dislike me, then, so much,
Hattie?" he asked reproachfully.


The look she flashed upon him was a
direct denial of the charge, yet she
would not speak.


=" love you SO dearly and so tenderiy
that my whole life must be sad one
if you do not love me in return. You
do not wish my life to be that, do you,
Hattie?"


No, not that"


He bent so low that his face almost
touched hers, and then he saw it was
rosy red, with now and then a teal
sparkling upon it like diamond. HI
thought she was panied and in dis
tress.


81 am sorry, Hattie. l did not NEAR
to give you pain"


She stopped him with a little finger
pressed upon his lips, and now she looked
up, grown bolder in her Joy.


Can you not see that 1 am onl.
happy7 that / am crying only for tina
happiness?" and she smiled lovingl.
through her tears.


"You love me then, darling?" he
asked, as he drew her closer to him, ant
bent down to look within her eyes.
eyes, yesl l have loved you SO mucl


ever since


Ever since when?" he asked, as sh
paused in sweet confusion, and her oil
shyness returned.


"Ever since the day you fell out ther
in the road and we brought you in."
They said no more just then; wha
need? The silence is full of words
lovers, and they were more than col
tent with this.


"Will 1 let you have herl Of course


will, and glad of the chance to give he
: to so good husband" said farmer Roy
ton, when Sidney asked him for h
! prize; and the good wife spoke likewis
> And so the days rolled rapidly towarc
, the one appointed for the wedding. Ar
:, on that very morning a letter can
= = from the absent uncle. 1t was as ft
" lows:


"DEAR S1DNEY:-The speculation
o that we thought had ruined you, ha
turned out splendidly. | have in n
= possession over one hundred and thir
y = thousand dollars. Come and take pt
- session at once"


II Then followed his uncle's address al
10 signature,


h Not until after they were married d
q he show the letter to his bride. She
+ joiced at this good fortune-for his sa
Ar and said:


If q You were poor Sidney when 1 m,
<, ried you; SO you see, love you
st yourself alone"


" Hisrich friends would have come ba


to him, but they found no welcome.
S, had tried them, and they were fou
q. wanting.