It is upon a soft September afternoon that we last see Dr. Gardner and his lovely wife. Within a snug little arbor beside the lake in Central Park the two sit side by side, watching the idly-floating pleasure crafts, and noting the lazy ripples of the green wavelets. Their hearts grow tender with a mighty love that finds no language in which to clothe itself.
Every blessing of life is theirs; every cadence that affection knows makes harmony in their words. Gayly-dressed children pass by, some with toy balloons, bounding into air. Evelyn shuddered at even this tiny reminder of her reckless adventure, and clinging to her husband's arm, blesses him and the day that confided her to his keeping. Accident had tested his noble nature as the ordinary course of events never could have done; and now was fulfilled the last wish of his parents, that in Evelyn Howard should Weldon Gardner find the glory of heaven's last, best gift to man.
Hezekiah's Wooing
A FIRESIDE SKETCH
"Walk right in, Mr. Lightus, do," said the cheery voice of the Widow Partridge, as the portly figure of Mr. Hezekiah Lighthouse appeared in her hospitable doorway.
"Thankee, thankee, I don't care if I do, Mis' Patridge," responded the visitor, heavily bringing himself within the family circle.
"How's all?" he asked, comfortably establishing himself in the arm-chair.
"Middlin', thankee," said the widow. "I've been enjoyin' very poor health till lately. Now I seem to be pickin' up a little," as brushing the seat of a rocker with her gingham apron, she sat down at the opposite end of the hearth.