The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1838-10-31
Dearest. if YOUR failing


YOU unnecessary. Dearest, if your falling
eyes could have distinguished objects tha
evening nj the the theatre you would bav,
recognized, in the face that bent so anxious
~ over you, the altered features of her VII,
brought you TO US the day first behel.
your gentle conference.-the dark eye.
ofmy mother :! Since that day have
hnd no dream of love that was not closed
in your image, nor ever shall Jeanie, though
were to live long life, and never, never
ses you more. My poor father had been
amused by my childish prediction ; had
wondered at the tenacty Of an impression
made on boys mind by your benuty, nor
dreamed that it grew with my growth and
strengthened with my years. After my re-
turn from the Continent ! came to Bath to
realize the visions | had formed. ] saw
you Jeanie, you were even more perfect IN
your quiet aud con,ented womanhood, than
when pale and mournful, you looked on me
and breathed your lost broiher's names at
Castle Greme. After that happy hour in
the garden (forgive me for having seemed
TO forget it) wrote to my fcher for his
consent 20 marry you. My mother herself
'"s"N "iS iSP'y, Hnu SDHicSs, th""S" .
expected dIsinclinaiion to the marriage, |
never dreamed Of the passionate violence
with which he forbade it, and commanded
me to return instantly to Scotland. Jea-
nir, my father had idolized me he was an
old, very old man. My mother impress
scd upon me that might have his life to
answer for, if by any act of open disobe-
dience, | braved his grief and anger. |
was colder TO you you felt it /; and it seem
ell 10 me as if serpents, were knawing at
my heart; still could not leave the spo,
where you were my mothers repr0aches
and entreaties were all in vain | could not
qnt Bath. She resolved no, to quit wilhou,
me, and, at length, she tempted me by n
promise, of interceding with my father !;
you are aware of her power over him : she
only stipulated that should return without
my farther declaration TO you. | wished
To see you; aud knowing that poor Aunt
Nanny was to take you to the thentre for
your very steps were watched by him yon
believed unfaithfrl,l I persuadeded .er to
go: forgive me that evenings pain
"The next morning "A letter arrived, i'll
forming her shat my father was ill-we
travelled night and day; aud his first ex-
clamation on seeing me, was, Good lad
Good lad knew ye wouldn't break yere
fathers heart, by marrying wi Aberfoy's
daughter. Promise me-promise me-for
believe I'm going Jeanie. he was my
talher--my dying father-l promised him
that unless he consented | would never
nsk you to become mine; but ! added,
tha, no temptation should ever induce me
To marry another, nnd the stock of the
CrIme's would be leafless and blightcd
tree, whether it was the mp pproach of death
or the pleading of my mother know no, !;
but he softened la,lcrly; he first willed A.
berioy to your father, and then he spoke
your name. I'd like to see her Douglas,
(tiese were almost HE last words,) but n,
matter, ye'lI bring her here after am gone.
Jeanie | would have given half my life II
have seen him bless you, but it cannot be
Gods will he done. Write to me, aud tel
me whether your father will come up i'm
media,eiy to Aberfoy, and if can max
any arrangements for him there or whe,hc
shall come to Bath, aud bring you bot
up to the Castle. Bid him think kindl
of me, aud kindly too, Of my mother, ia
indeed she has a strong regard for him, an
for yourself, too, and her cough alarms me
Sometimes IA drend comes over me that
am too happy, and That VIC shal. not max
one family long, but shall not saddeI
you, swco, Jeanie. Love me, love her, an,
say To your. father that the saddest look
she ever gave were those she cast from TN
hill to the deserted house at Aberfoy ant
the saddest tones her sweet voice eve
breaihed were those in which she spoke h
name.
" Yours for ever, truly and lovingly,
a, M. r...,