Cousin Maude

The October sun had painted the forest trees with the gorgeous tints

of autumn and the November winds had changed them to a more sober

hue ere J.C. De Vere came again to Laurel Hill. Very regularly he

wrote to Maude--kind, loving letters, which helped to cheer her

solitary life.

Nellie still remained with Mrs. Kelsey, and though

she had so far forgiven her stepsister as to write to her

occasionally, she still cherished toward her a feeling of animosity

for having stolen away her lover.

On his return to Rochester J.C. De Vere had fully expected that his

engagement would be the theme of every tongue, and he had prepared

himself for the attack. How, then, was he surprised to find that no

one had the least suspicion of it, though many joked him for having

quarreled with Nellie as they were sure he had done, by his not

returning when she did.

Mrs. Kelsey had changed her mind and resolved to say nothing of an

affair which she was sure would never prove to be serious, and the

result showed the wisdom of her proceeding. No one spoke of Maude to

J.C., for no one knew of her existence, and both Mrs. Kelsey, and

Nellie, whom he frequently met, scrupulously refrained from

mentioning her name.

At first he felt annoyed, and more than once

was tempted to tell of his engagement, but as time wore on and he

became more and more interested in city gayeties, he thought less

frequently of the dark-eyed Maude, who, with fewer sources of

amusement, was each day thinking more and more of him.

Still, he was sure he loved her, and one morning near the middle of November, when

he received a letter from her saying, "I am sometimes very lonely,

and wish that you were here," he started up with his usual

impetuosity, and ere he was fully aware of his own intentions he

found himself ticketed for Canandaigua, and the next morning Louis

Kennedy, looking from his window and watching the daily stage as it

came slowly up the hill, screamed out, "He's come--he's come!"

A few moments more and Maude was clasped in J.C.'s arms. Kissing her

forehead, her cheek, and her lips, he held her off and looked to see

if she had changed. She had, and he knew it. Happiness and

contentment are more certain beautifiers than the most powerful

cosmetics, and under the combined effects of both Maude was greatly

improved. She was happy in her engagement, happy in the increased

respect it brought her from her friends, and happy, too, in the

unusual kindness, of her stepfather. All this was manifest in her

face, and for the first time in his life J.C. told her she was

beautiful.