Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1849-02-22
"To honor my father and mother"

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 course" She
extended her hand to him as she spoke, and
he grasped it like man in dream. The
reply he had demanded was distinct enough
in her words, but thousand times more SC
in her look, manner, tone. He felt that OK
postulation was vain, and would be unman-
| ly; and as she walked away, with her noise
less and measured step, and her hands fold
ed before her, he felt Indignation struggling
with admring 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 | tell
whether any one watched the stage-coach
that day from the upper window Not even
prying servant could whisper anything OF
Martha or guess at the nature of the inter.
view 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 off, for her man.
ner was as usual. She was assiduous in
the discharge of her duties, kind to every
one, loving and reverential to her parents
Still she was not WE'LL and her father at
length grew alarmed. They took her from
watering place to watering place; they IL
unused 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 to them
cheerfully, and did all she could to seem
and to be happy But still she was not
well and when many months had passed
away, the now terrified parents, after trying
everything that science and affection could
suggest for the restoration of their only
child, consulted once more. The nature
of the step they ultimately determined upon
may be gathered from the following commu
nication received in reply to Il letter from
Mr.. Hargrave;
Respected Friend-The inquiry thou
drectest has been easy. | am connected
in business with one mot of our Society to
whom the young man is well known, ant
by whom he is much esteemed. Richard
Temple is wise beyond his years. He is o.
quiet and retired habits in his private life
and is an energetic and persevering man Of
business, and will, have no doubt, get or
in the world That this is the opinion o
my friend is clear, for know that he would
willingly give him his daughter to wife, who
will bring her husband good dowry as wei
as comely person. But Richard, when
saw him last, was not forward in the matter
His thoughts, even i'll the company of til,
+ maid, seemed occupied-doubtless by
business. Since writing these lines, have
| been informed that he visits Fins Cross il
! few days, to arrange some matters con
nected with his late mothers affairs, the las
remaining link of his connection with the
place.
/ am, respected friend, &c.
EZEKIEL BRowN."
This letter determined Mr.. Hargraye tt
recall his rejection of Richard Temple
and the effect of conversation he had up
on the subject with his daughter proved, to
the unbounded JOY of the parents, that as
yet she had no organic disease.
For some days Martha, though happy
was restless. 1t seemed as if Joy had more
effect than grief in disturbing her feelings
for at the slightest sound from the lawn Of
the street the color mounted to her face
At length an acquaintance, when calling II
the evening, informed her that she had jus
seen Richard.
"Thou rememberest Richard, Martha 2
, Martha nodded.
, " He is grown so comely and so manly
f thou woud'st hardly know him."
, " He will call here, peradyenture, SAT-
the mother.
, "Nay. He has already taken his place
in the coach for Tomorrow" Martha grey
pale; and the mother hurried out of TIT
t room to seek her husband That nigh
: Richard received friendly note from Mr.
Hargrave, begging him to call in the morn
: ing OH business of Importance.
When Richard found himself once NOR
in the silent drawing room, his manner wa
very different from what it had been on til
= last occasion. He was now calm, bu
d gloomy, and almost stern and he waite
s for the appearance of his invter with ne
t Their hope nor fear, but with naughty in
S patience. Instead Of Mr.. Hargraye, how
: ever, it was Martha who entered the room
and he started back at the unexpected al
: partition in surprise and agitation. Th
= color that rose in her face, and made h'
= more beautiful than ever, prevented hi
from seeing that she had been weeping, al
when she held out her hand the slight gra'
o he gave 1t was so momentary, that he d
: not discover its attenuation. A paint
y embarrassment prevailed for some tim
l. hardly interrupted by common question
" and monosyllabic replies; till at leng'
Richard remarked that, his place BEN
taken, he could wait no longer, but shou
hope to be favored with Mr.. Hargraye
y commands in writing. He was about
e withdraw with ceremonious bow whe
n Martha stepped forward
Richard" said she, al have no fe
n that my early friend will think me immo
n est, and therefore | will speak without co
? cealment. larry yet awhile, for ha'
that to say which, peradventure, may mai
p thee consider thy place in the coach lig
n sacrifice"
e How %
e Richard" she continued, "thou did
" once WOO me for thy wife, and vert reject'
S by my fathers commands. Crcumstanc
e have brought about change in his feeling
h Must speak it % and slight smile, pas
n ing away in an instant, illumined the brig
Re flush that rose in her cheek "Wert the
u to ask again, dear friend, the answer mig
Re be different !"
n Go Lone ell aft fhic