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Show WOMAN'S EXPONENT. 6G J think be so .careful on my account; then we shall pack up tomorrow, and go away the next morning, (lood-uigh- t Polly." "Alice," said' her aunt when they were, alone again. "I think I shall go to my sisDo you remember the fa. ter's in M mous rambling, old country house with the It was called 'The great wide, porches? was oik. of those peculiar types of. women difficult to describe that we term th-vtu.lv" ;. mall in figure, dark, al"a most olive complexion, purplidi or blue people Many hair, large grey eyes she was ather plain, hut considered tractive, and possessed that indescri-hahleharni, which for want of a hitter term we call magnetic, This evesoft ning shenVorc a grey dress, material, trimmed with scarlet velvet-- ami bending over l:er letters he looked as nMucli a picture, as the young Lirl who at Alice chanced to notice it and astonished her by saying; "Aunt Esther, you Innk so eh inning tonight. vour very mu! seems to be looking forth out of your eyes. I Mi veil had a sweetheart, it's such a lonelv life to live: how long since Uncle -- jK-rft-- , e Meadows.' " "You mean Aunt Jane's? I remember it a little; we used io play tinder the great elm' trees. Wasn't t lie re a lot of children?" "Seven. I believe, and they are none of tlum married. You will not be lonely with all those young people: at any rate we'll try it: I have not been there for 'many years, never since my widowhood:- - and Aunt Esther paused for a moment, the word seuned to stick in her throat. "It's a long way off. and we need not wait to send them word. I am sure of a welcome, for your Uncle William is one of the most hospitable men I have ever known." "Then, auntie, that's settled, and I want you to tell me that romantic story of your own life, I'ollv knows something about it. so of course, there is a story." of-som- e ; -- -- I op-Ksit- e. Icrlurt died ?" "Ten years and over," replied tlie little woman, without lifting her eyes. Sometimes her voice sounded strangely to Alice, and as she looked she saw tears fall upon the letter her aunt had been reading, but seemed Alice to have dropped from her hand. knew her aunt was undemonstrative, and she would not inquire whit made her sad, allusion to but thought1 it was her her uncle's death. Little she knew the chord she had touched, that made such discord in the heart .of. this staid and demure little "What nonsense, has Polly been filling ill-tim- your foolih little head with? Some servant's gossip I suppose?" "Oh. no. Aunt Esther, this is quite dif0 woman. ferent, and if you don't promise to tell me The letters were finished and both ladies I shall ask Polly before we go to Aunt drew nearer to the fire and resumed conJane's, because one day she said to me long who each love all do as other, just ago: Alice, you're a lovelv girl, but not sc versation, the for before separation night. attractive as your Aunt Esther was; she has letunknown "Alice, my dear, was, your a history;' and wonder, auntie, that I never ter .from some rich uncle an invitation for have teased you to tell me the story." the holidays?" "Do you see?" said her aunt, pointing "No aunt, it was from old Mr. Brown, to the clock on the mantel; "it is after midwhom we met at the seaside last summer, night, and we shall have a great deal to do and funniest of all .(for you remember I tomorrow. You really must go to bed now. snubbed him) it .contained an offer of marand forget all this foolishness about your I Audacious first had. one the ever riage, auntie. It is quite enough for you to know he and loves that he he tells me me, fellow, me as I am now and .to judge me upon is worth half a million, all in one paragraph. mv real merits, and not to listen to Polly's I wouldn't marry him if he were worth insinuations. She's over fond of me, and three millions ; he's a scoundrel, been in her imagination carries her away some: dJvnrrcd times." snriVtv tliirfv vrnrc nr more his" wife. old Brown: I'd rather be Alice was sleepy and therefore bade her an old maid and stay with you all my days, mint t willingly: and Esther Danauntie. You'll never marry again, I 'don't forth sat tlvre alone brooding over the past' fascinatmuch more suppose, though you're r that 'had been so vividly recalled know a most and than great mind that da v. It seemed as though that young girls, ing deal more. Is that the reason they call letter had brought the past with it. not only widows dangerous, I wonder? I've often to Esther .herself, but Polly and Alice heard the. expression; I couldn't imagine seemed full of the same reminiscences. She why it was used, for you are the only young would not acknowledge to herself that she widow I Have ever really bcem. acquainted bad .been persuaded to marry for moriew with, and I'm sure you are the most in- though the world said so, the world in which offensive and reserved,' and the very best she revolved : and Jonight as she sat thinklittle auntie in. all the world." As she fining she drew the letter from her pocket, the ished her remark she rose and threw her litter that had excited : Polly's curiosity, arms around Aunt Esther's neck, and deand w hich seemed to have changed her plans luged her with kisses. suddenly. .. When Polly came in to inquire what or "Shall I burn it?" she said to herself. "I ders her mistress had u give, before retirscarcely dare keep it, I am sure Polly recog- ing, Mrs. Danforth replied, "Nothing, tom'zed Jhe w ritnig," and as she soliloquised or thus she night, but. we are going away in opened the letter 'and was again two, 'so air our. plans will be changed and its contents. we can dispense with some of the help for perusing Looking over her shoulder , w e might the present. Polly, Would you like to go easily read it too, for she held it wide open, anywhere on a visit?" and gazed as if entranced. It fan thus: "NorIrsr'DanforthI'wiHtahiidtalce care, of the house while you're .absent, and "Mv Precious1 Darling: ;. Ben, of course you'll retain him for outside "I shall sail for America- in a few days ; work. We two cart do verv well .and it will I have mad e definit e arrangemeil tst; sha.l HO bv wav of London to transact cnmp hiKi. "All it's kind of you to ness: thereand dhen for right, Polly, ; very In T ' good-nigh- to-he- y ; : - few hours- after arriving, I shall com. fvou. and learn my fate. I can no, endure this dreadful suspcirsc. It is since I wrote, you that, firt impas.i Utter, after I learned that you were tu free from that terrible bondage of the hYou answered 'me as though you wer. icicle, or that your heart was frozen; !. know you better; you are mine; and own heart will bear you witness when read these burning words. You cannot get if yon would, the glorious past, the ollection of which has hung over me, d'.r all these years of banishment, like a - . f-- j ( ; ! I of promise. bow j I have still the ueouJii, i;nui me , p! n in.u m w orning, when we plighted our troth im r the apple boughs and I. shall never with it. The last time I wrote you .. swered me in doubt it gave me some encouragement, because von said, 'Wait, w!.:i the children I have charge of are not dependent upon me for a home, I may o n sider your proposal.' Must duty to tbe children of your dead brother forever debar vou from fulfilling the pledge of your w r to the living to one who has waited u vou all these years that he might take to his heart and shelter you there fore-and ever? Esther, I' am coming, and fr.-your own sweet lips. I must hear. the word- that shall decide my fate, my further life. . Disguise your true self as you may to other-vou cannot deceive me, bv mv own strength of affection, I measure yours, I will you to answer me here, it would be t" long to wait should you say, yes, and until we shall meet, sweetheart, dearest. "Your old sweetheart, n i , -- i in Mull I v ! ..... j ! I j ! ! j ! ! : a-- k "Sidney Manning." Poor Aunt Esther, she read the letter again and, again, and her tears poured hot and fast. She sobbed as if her heart wnl break. "What shall I say to him when he come-How can I meet' him again after all these years? I dare not confess my love, that I will not see lias outlived everything. him, I will go away ; 4 shall not be able to withstand his pleadings!" Nothwithstanding her'., mental resolve, she folded up the letter that had caused all this tumult of feeling and put it in her boom, and as she passed out of the room nr.': ascended the stairway, she moaned and .head every now and then, she leaned her l alupon the balustrade and would have ien but. for its support. Little sleep for her that night;, while .Alice, who was whoih heart-purslept the sweet sleep of youtti and innocence. How true the poet's won V 1 "' e, : Tired nature's sweet restorer, .balmy sleep, be le His ready visit, pays, where, fortune smiles wretched he forsakes, Swift on his downy pinions, flies from And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. t' The household were early astir the ; gnJ . net morning, for Polly, the "faithful friend, ha' been almost as wakeful as her mistress, an the day w:as a busy one with preparation for the journey and the necessary change. The trunks were packed and strapped, and Dantraveling bags made ready, and Esther room forth, like one in a dreamwent from 1 1 J Boston.; a' ."This was his house," she muttered her breath, my husband's," and a oM |