Rensselaer Republican, Volume 20, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 December 1887 — GNEWYEAR'S SURPRISE [ARTICLE]

GNEWYEAR'S SURPRISE

It wax a chilly December Bight when the tr.'iiu g"? into Hampden, Hampden as OU* of those new. untinibhed place* wF Hi :• q iireH the brightest of. Biur ght, the gte»!*bl fiarae of quivering leaves 10 make them at all presentable. And in the gray, uncompromising meit uni of the December dusk Hampden looked dreary enough, with the dark chimnoy of the new si ikmill riaing+mt of the .-hemlock woods, the staring depot.. tl<- vhnreh, which bore a strong family r* semblance to a child’s wooden t bvn and It - sF be’q liiiif y- to the left, which reminded the thoughtful look*run of a gigantic fortification in an unfinished state. “Humph!” s4,d Mrs. Nedley, as she looked around her. “A queer place.” Her nit ce, Thebewas There To meet her with a box-wagon' and a whitenosed old horse. “Folks can't always choose where they’re to live,” said Phebe, v.ho was always in a state of antagonism io Mrs Nedley, “and Hampden is good, enough for me.” “How is Philip?" asked Mrs. Nedley. •‘Philip is well,” said Phebe, as she helped the depot boy <o hoist Aunt Nedley Atn k into the wagon. Pnilop Barrow was Mrs. Nedley’s favorite at school, hdp •riplendedibi* fortunes, ; and finally purchased a share for him in ti e new eiik mid. "He's all I’ve got,!’ said Mrs. Nedk-y, “exc-pt Phebe, and Phebe and I never did hitch hori-es together. Ami I want him to succeed in the world." But within a few days a new claimant had arnen to Aunt Nedley’s protection and tender consideration. “To be sure, she is no relation to me,” said Mrs' Nedley, “but her mother was my dearest friend and I think I will adopt her for my sake’ ” And it was scarcely an hour from the time in which she learned shat Sylvia Sray was orphan that she wrote a kind letter to the girl, invi ing her to come to the east for a visit. “If you like it', my "dear, there need be no occasion for your going back,” she wrote. “We are bo h alone. Let us be companions to one another. She had waited and waited, and no reply had arrived, and while she waited a plan had develops! itself in her mind. “If she is her mother’s daughter she •an’t help being pretty,” said Mrs. Nedley. "Phil is a handsome lad. She shall marry Phil.” And this explains Mrs. Nedley’s presence at Hampden. “I suppose you are still keeping house for Phil?” said Mrs. Nedley, as they drove along in the chill twilight. “No,” said .Phebe, skilfully guiding the old horse down a steep place in the road. “He boards, eh?” said Mrs. Nedley. “No, he don’t board," ‘ answered Phel»e; “his wife keeps house for him.” “What?" said Mr. Ntd.ey. “He is married," announced Phebe, very much in the tone in which she might have said “it :s aco d eveni nz,” - for “The train is late.” “Philip married repeated the nM lady; “married! Stop, Phebe; don’t take me a step further! Turn round at once. Take .me bacM te ■ fee-station; turn to Concord.” asked Phebe. y <- ~ “Not ifhe is married,” answered Mrs. Nedley, in a choked voice, edPhebT “YmfUbkeher.” ’ “No, I shan’t,” said Mrs. Nedley. “Phil—married. Phebe, if you don’t tarn around Til get out and walk.” __ Mib. Nedley’s will was like adamant

Bwn.i pmboß.wrbw to iki; 1 # ■ 4 ‘■ < Anihaoit happened t tat Pfiebe and , the »’!/*• nosed pony arrived solitary j and alone at the little cottage of , the [’mill Htipoiinlendent half an hoar liter. Phil came oat into the porch, carrying a'lantern. Mrs. Phil ran after hint, with a pink apron tied around her. elint waist, and brown fringe of hair-flowing back fr >m . herforhead. i “WhereVunjcauntt” said Phil, as Phebe jumped oat. “Didn’t she come?” ‘‘She came,” said Phebe, curtly, “but r he’s gone back again.” “(lone back again?” “Yue. She didn’t like it because you’ve got married, so she’s gone back by 8 06 train.” “XJh, PhflF’'<‘rt<ffl’'Mrs Barrow, who was a rohnd, cherry cheeked little woman, with soft, Hazel eyes and a mouth like a rosebud, “ What shaft we do? Why didn’t you consult her before yon married me?” - Phil Barrow broke into a great laugh. "My dear,” he said, “it wasn’t her consent I wanted; it was yours,” “Oh! But, Phil, she has done so much for you.” “She’s a gjod soul, but she’s eccentric,” said the mill superintendent., “Go in, Phebe, and get your tea.” “I’msure I can’t eat a mouthful,” bald Mrs. Pnil, despairingly. “And the biscuits I mixed myself; and the fried chicken; and the White Mountain cake —oh, Phil, oh, Piiil!” T ■——— /Don’t fret, dear,” said Phil; “my Aunt Nedley has missed a very good supper, that.l c«n toil her.” ”. “But I have blighted your future,” said Mrs. Barrow, tragically -seizing the

sugar tongs. F—“We’ll go to Concord to morrow and see the old lady,” soothed Phil. “She must 3..rrender if she sees you, wifey.” Phebe chuckled grimly. “That’s all very well,” said she, “but you forget that an old lady and a young man don’t look at a girl with the same eyes.” “Hold your tongue, Phebe,” said the mill superintendent. “What’s the use of always croaking?” And then Mrs. Phil began to laugh, and Phebe, who, after her crabbed fashion, was fond of her pretty sister-in-law, laughed also; and after all the dainty little supper was eaten and enjoyed, even though Aunt Nedley’s face was steadfastly turned toward Concord. Her own fireside bad never seemed so solitary and dreary as it did upon that long December night. The maids, gossipping in the kitchen, were called upon to rekindle the dead fire. The tea, smoky and half cold, wts served, and Mrs.. Nedley was just resolving to go to bed, when Betsy brought a letter. “Postman, mum; he left it a week ago," said she. “It had fall down back of the letter box.” “Ahl” said Mrs. Negley, fitting on her spectacles an 1 scrutinizing the seal and direction, “from Sylvia Gray. Now I shall have some t one to love in Philip’s place.” But sh -had not read three lines before she flung the letter indignantly on the sulking fire. “Married!’’ she exclaiined, “That child! Is everybody crazy to get married, 1 wonder! And she hopes I’ll excuse her, but her husband thinks—folly and nonsense! what is her husbani to me? Betsy, my chamber cand'e.” “Bless me, madam,” said Betsy,’ “what has happened?” “Every thing,’’said Mrs.Nedley.“Don’t call me to morrow morning, even if it is New Year’s day. I almost wish that I could go to sleep and sleep forever.” And Mrs. Nedley, in the silence aud. solitude of her own room, fell to thinking to what charitable institution she could leave her money. With Solomon of old ane could earnestly have cried: “Vanity, all is vanity!’ “I loved Philip,” she said, “and I bad set my heart oh Sylvia Gray—and such a match as it would have been.” Next day was New Year’s, jand Mrs. Nedlsy. having announced that she was going to Hampden to see her nephew, had not received any callers. She was therefore sitting somewhat disconsolately at her luncheon, with her cockatoo on one side of her and her poodle on the other when Bstsy opened the door. “Please, ma’am,” said Betsy, “company." “Bitsy,” said Mrs. Nedley, severely, “Didi not tell you that I would not receive anybody to-day.” “Please, ma’m,” giggled Betsy, °he would come in.” “Who would come in?” said Mrs. Nedley. “It’s me. Aunt Nedley,” k said Philip Barrow, “and my wife. Don’t be vexed." T tits- tall young mill superintendent came in with his pretty wife hanging, on “Won’t you kiss me, Aunt Nedley?” said Mrs. Phil, putting up her rosebud “Eh?” said Mrs. Nedley. “Didn't you get iny letter?” said Philip’s wife. “Letter?" Mrs. Nedley was more convinced than ever now that she was asleep and dreaming. “I wrote you all about it,” said Mrs. PhiL “Don’t you know! I am Sylvia Gray. I met Phil when he came out to Denver to look at the new mill ma-

|chjnergr, and he be married; imAnediatefy. said ;he 4asrsure yotf would'ftygive him. 'Will you forgive him Ann! Ufiidley, as a New Year’s gif ?” “Yes, my dear, I will,” said Mrs. Nedley, her face brightening updike the full moon peeping through mist wreaths. “But why didn’t they te>l me you were Sylvia Gray?” “Philip wanted to surprise you?’ said Sylvia, hanging her head. '• " “Well, he has surprised me," said Mrs. Nedley. She went to Hampden with the mill superintendent and his wife, and slept in the pretty pink and white bed room which Sylvia had prenared for her with so much pains; and she praised Svlvia’s chicken salad and prune pies, and she even condescended to approve of Phebe’s half completed counterpane; for life was all coleur de rose to her now. It is a great thing for a woman of Mrs. Nedley’a age to have her own way.