The Middlebury galaxy. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1848-1850, 1848-12-19

nor my nearl.
Then was deceived in supposing-
did indulge the dream-ihat my devotion
had awakened an interest in your bosom
That interest belongs 10 ahoiherp
Il never had dearer friendship than thine, ,
said Martha and raising her eyes 10 his.
she added after pause. in the clear. distinct,
silvery lone which was the character CT her
voice, and never SHALL
yet you reject and spurn me. This is
tortured 1t cannot be that the difference in
our worldly circumstances weighs with YOU
know you better, Martha. Neither can
you suppose that on my part there is the
slightest hinge of mercenary feeling for you
know me better. Will you hot give me at
least hope? There are fortunes 10 make in
the world that would satisfy. even your faith
err; we are both young and 10 win you,my
precious love, Iwould grudge neither Time,
nor sweat, nor blood
Richard said the Quaker girl, growing
still more pale, mo more Of this, in mercy 10
thyself-and me. Thou R,ayst agitare and
unnerve, but never change my purpose
fWha: is your purpose g
TO honor my father and my mother
THAT you may enjoy long life in The land 2
said Richard with bitter smile.
THAT | may honor through them my
Heavenly Father, who is above all. Fare
well, my early friend return into the world,
where thou wilt forget Martha, and may the
All wise direct Thy coursep She extended
her hand 10 him as she spoke, and he grasp
ed it like man in dream. The reply he
had demanded was distinct enough in her
words, but thousand times more SO in her
look, manner. and lone. He felt that expos
tuation was vain, and would be humanity 4;
and as she walked away, with her noiseless
and measured step, and her hands folded be-
fore her. he felt Indignation struggling with
admiring and despairing love. The figure
paused for an instant at The door but the
next moment Martha disappeared without
turning her head.
Richard never knew, neither can l tell,
whether any one watched the stage-coach
that day from the upper story window. Not
even prying servant could whisper any
thing OF Martha, or guess at the nature oil
the interview that had taken place. She
was pale, it is true, but SO had she been for
some time. Her health, it appeared, was
not good her appetite was gone her limbs
feeble. But this would 90 of, for her man.
ner was as usual. She was assiduous in the
discharge Of her duties, kind 10 every one.
loving and reverenlial 10 her parents. Still
she was not well, and her father at length
grew alarmed. They took her from water
ingplace TO waiering-l lace; they amused
her with strange sights; they tried every
day TO give some new direction TO her
thoughts. Martha was grateful. She re
paid their cares with smiles, talked 10 them
cheerfully, and did all she could to seem and
TO be happy. But still she was not we'll
and when many months had passed away,
the now terrified parents, after trying every
thing that science and affection could sug-
gest for the restoration or their only child
consulted once more. The nature of the step
they ultimately determined upon may be
gathered from the following communication
received in reply 10 letter from Mr.. Har~
gravel
RESPECTED FRtEND-the inquiry thou
directedest has been easy. 1 am connected
in business with one mot of our Society to
whom tine young woman is well known, ard
by whom he is much esteemed. Richard
Temple is wise beyond his years. Heis OF
quiet and retired habits in his private life,
and is an energetic and persevering man OF
his business, and will, have no doubt, get
on in the world. That This is The opinion Of
my friend, is clear, for know that he would
willingly give him his daughter 10 wife, who
will bring her husband good dowry as well
as a comely person. But Richard, when
saw him last, was not forward in the matter.
His thoughts. even in company with the
maid, seemed occupied-doubrless by
businets, Since writing these lines, have
been informed that he visits Films Cross in
a few days, 10 arrange some matters connect
ed with his late mothers affairs, the last re-
naming link of his connection with the
place. am, respected friend, &c,
EZEKIEL BRowN.
This letter determined Mr.. Hargravc 10
recile the rejection Of Richard Temple and
The effect OF the conversation he had upon the
subject with his daughter proved, TO the un-
bounded joy OF the perenis, that as yet she
had no organic disease.
For some days Martha, though happy,
was restless. II seemed as if Joy had more ef-
feet Than gIiefin unseitIing the demure Qua
ker. for at the slightest sound from the lawn
or The street, the color mounted into her face.
Al length, an acquaintance, when calling in
The evening, informed her that she had Just
seen Richard.
Thou remembered Richard, Martha 2
Martha nodded
thou wouldst hardly know him.
He will call here, peradveniure q said the
mother.
Nay. He has already taken his place in
the coach for Tomorrow Martha grew pale;
and the mother hurried on; Of the room 10
seek her husband. That night Richard re-
ceived friendly note frem Mr. Hargrave.
begging him 10 call in the morning on bust
ness Of importance.
When Richard found himself one more in
the silent drawing room, his manner was
very different from what it had been on the
last occasion. He was now calm, but glOo-
my, and almost stern; and he waited for the
appearance of his inviler with neither hope
nor fear, but with naughty Impotence.
Instead of Mr.. Hargrave. however, il was
Martha who entered the room, and he start
ed back al the unexpected apparition in sur
prise and agitation. The color that rose IN
10 her face. and made her more beautiful
than ever, prevented him from seeing that
she had been i'll !; and when she held out her |
hand, the slight grasp he gave it was so mo-
mentary, that he did not discover its attenua- |
tim A paintul embarrassment prevailed |