Year: 1873

! Willy hnHVN W. ~


! There were only three of us left in the


old house, the Thanksgiving night be.


fore Arthur went away, and just as the


twilight was falling l climbed into one
| of the old-fashioned windows to look


without. The prospect was drear
enough, and the pang l was to feel at


parting sharpened the whole scene. The
elms were stripped of leaves. and the


water was dripping tearfully from their
spray: and beyond the sloping bank,
the unsteady waves looked like dark
clouds dropped on the surface of the
lake, and the rocks aud pebbles of the
shore were wet with the late rain. The


wind swept around the house in con-


fused gusts, for it had not yet decided
which way to blow, and sometimes IT
would shake the doors and windows as
if with heavy hand, and anon hush its
voice to a whisper and come moaning
| to us through the crevices.


"It is an old house." | said, turning
to Arthur, who, with Alice, was standing
near.


"It is an old house." he repeated,


"and like all old houses has its ghosts.
/ Do not question my veracity with
doubling eyes, and l Will tell You of
apparitions that haunt it daily"
AT twilight l come III here often
from hard study, and l see our grand
father seated, as of old at other Thanks
giving seasons, in his armchair with
| head bent low upon his cane; and at
yonder table your mother works
thougntfully, or reads quietly from
some choice volume. But the mists
clear away, and instead, Alice sits
radiant before me, and you hover around
and PROFOUND to me those curious
questions, and the ghosts are gone.
| do not mean that 1 really see them, you
know" he explained, in order to do
away with my incredulty, "and do
not mean that there are real ghosts to
be seen here, only the speeters that
fancy calls up but We are only specters
ourselves, little cousin. that hit here
until God calls us away.


1t was growing darker New. Betty
had gone Ia spend the night with sick
child, and thought it would be a relief
to hear her stirring in the kitchen, and
getting down from my window i said
that l wished Betty had not gone away.
for it was a gloomy night, and a large
house for only three of us. Then Alice
went out for the lights, and Arthur
placed our chairs, rebuking me gravely
for my seltishness. We did not SIT
down Immediately, though, but stood
looking at each other. talking, and
making three quiet shadows on the
wall. And Arthur said We We're always
casting shadows wherever We went and
some were somber enough to many poor
hearts, God knew. But there were 9TH
ers cool and refreshing that fell where
they were most needed in the heat and
fever of life. 'Let us look well to our
shadows, Minnie; and you too, Miss
Alice, he said, after We had sat down.


And so We sat by the high box stove
the wind was moaning around the house
and the waves were dashing high upon
the long, low beach, and that the NOR
row was Thanksgiving Day.


There would be many changes in all
three of US, Arthur said, before we
could meet again but he hoped IT
would be all just as it should be. He
went forth with high hopes, it was true,
but he was strangely attached TO the
old house, and it was hard for him to
leave. He was attached to the inmates,
toe, and should never form new ties
that could be so intimately associated
with dear remembrances, for by nature
he was conservative so much so, that
he felt he could never be happy to make
choice of a life companion without the
limits of that household. 1t was a pity
that was his cousin, for in time /
would be old enough to become his
wife. He looked very steadily at me
while speaking, and 1 made answer that
for the world would never marry him.
1 thought too much of him. He looked
amused, and said that / was a strange
puss, queer little cat, and then added
that beside me there was only Alice left
for him, and that she, too, was my
cousin.


''But she is not mine, he said quickly,
catching up her hand, and l walked
up the long dining room, and sat down
III my window seat to work out the
puzzling connection, while | looked out
into the dark night.


We all left the dear old house the
next day after Thanksgiving, Arthur to
pursue his theological studies, Alice to
live with a relative in another town, and
1 to attend school in little village not
far away. Alice and met sometimes,
and visited the old house together, for
we left it uninhabited. The swallows
built their nests in the chimneys, and
the robins wove theirs in the corners of
the old windows and gables, and they
always welcomed us with their happy
futterings and their songs, for these
little creatures like the sound of human
voices and the presence of human be-
ings. The deserted house looked less
cheerless, made alive with their busy,
social habits so We called them our
tenants, Alice and 1: and wrote Arthur
long letters under the brown apple
trees, of their quiet ways and thrifty
little lives. And We would make our
letters Just as fresh as description of
peach and apple blossom and rose and
rosemary, and all the fragrance of sum-
mer could make them; for we said they
must fall like fresh bouquets among
the musty tones of the old books he
was continually poring over. Aud thus
we stroye to keep him mindful that
there were two hearts very tender OF
his happiness during his absence and
toll.


Well, Arthur came back at last.
met him at Ahce's house, Thanksgiving
night, and we were very happy. think,
all three of rs. He had worked hard,
he said, during the years of our sepa-
ration and had eniove5 MANY a rich
feast studying the old masters. He
thought they had brought him nearer to
God, and would make him more useful
to the world. 'Had done much good
since had gone out from the house of
our grandfather ?" 81 did not know.
But Alice" said, "with her it had
been quite different she had one of
those large hearts which the werld so
much needed she could understand all
the needs Of people who had had qHite
different experience from hers. She
was q noble woman, and would make
an excellent such an excellent minister's