Daily American telegraph., 1851-12-26
ID E p A IT 1 E N It i.
BY MARY IRVING.
CuApTER TIT

not many miles from the old mansion that was
| Anne KS home. A miniature river, the merry
S., tumbles musically among the rocks
that seem to have been flung into its channel
| by some cold man Of the mountains till it
finally cleaves the ledge, and bounding over a
crescent precipice Of solid granite, almost loses
itself among the boulders and messy islets be-
meath. The banks below are two Steep solid
masses of ragged rock, over whose edges nod
scrub oaks and whYtleberry bushes. At this
day, you would be dazzled by the glare Of high,
red walls above them; for the manufacturing
interest has planted its foot firmly there, and
the rude water-wheels of utiltarian age whiz
and whirl in the very arms of the beautiful
crescent cascade. But forty years ago, before
Art had discovered the spot Nature was there
alone. To be sure, there was little settle
ment "a village, if tavern store, and post
Office, might be allowed their customary pre-
rogative of constituting village But the few
houses beside were scattered 80 widely about
and the place was SO innocent of all parade or
enterprise, that it scarcely seemed reused from
the simplicity Of its primitive woods.
It was Noyember-the month that opens
most brilliantly on the New England hills, but
long ere departing, rends it's robe Of richness
asunder, and scatters its myriad fragments to
the northeastern winds The hectic Of the
forest had already given place to the decay it
too surely BODIED Softly the Indian summer
had whispered to the few, lingering, dying
| flowers the hope of glad waking beneath
brighter sky, and flown to his prairie-nook in
the sheltered "West"
It was tho dismal afternoon of a stormy day !;
cloud-caps, heavy with mist, hung gloomily on
every hilltop, and the shifting winds, moaning
and whooping through the valley gorges, drove
battalions Of watery spectres hither and thither
at their will. Damp, chill, and cherries, the
night was coming on, hard on the steps Of
noon-day. A ruder blast than usual dashed
the honeysuckle vine against the small square
window Of the dingy little post Office on the
hillside, and startled the bald-headed post
master from pulling over the last months
register. He looked up, peered out and about,
and then thrust his stump of a quill behind
his right ear to muse.
| III hope she won't come today he began,
half to himself, half to his help-meet who sat
in the lightest corner of the Office, turning a
monotonous fax-wheel with her busy foot.
| II hope she won't come through all this
driving storm for nothing
| "Whats that? Who?n asked his wife,
but half comprehendng.
"Who but Major KS Anne-she that has
come every living day to this counter, for two
months, as reg'lar as the mailbag. It's all the
same to her, it seems, rain or shine; and Pm
afraid it'll be all the same for many day.
mores the pity"
"Heaven help the poor, young thing, re-
piled his wife !" Sits some trouble that's wear
ing upon her heart like, ye may be sure, John.
Bless ye, she come driving through the storm
to-day, and she so pale and ailing Ye needn't
keep a looking"
"Hush. you it's her own selfn whispered
the old man, deprecatingly as hooffall struck
| on his car and in a moment bay pony, with
its rider, dashed down past the little window,
its drenched name dripping to the grass.
"Too, bad," the good man exclaimed start
| ing from his high stool-"Tll meet her mt the
door, poor thing, that she needn't light in all
this mud.n
But before he could hobble halfway to the
door, it was thrown open, and burst of cold
stonn-drops ushered in Anne X. Was it She
with cheeks so pale and sunken from their
summer beauty, with those large, unnaturally
lustrous eyes, each of which. in that moment
seemed in itself whole world of souls! Truly.
u strange spell had shaken her in its grasp!
She stood one instant upon the sill, clenching
her gathered-up riding-dress more nervously in
her gloveless hand as if she would ask, by look
rather than by voice, the question that had
cost her so much agony. The long filaments
of her soaked plume swung forward as she bent
her head, brushing her coorles forehead and
cheek She nerved herself tremulously to the
effort-her heart told her that it was a last
effort
"Any letter for me to-day?D
| The words were spoken with forced, husky
calmness The postmaster turned his head to
one side, avoiding the glance that shot pang
of pity through his heart and answered with
involuntarily assumed Indifference
"Nop
He had said it more than fifty times with
those great eyes looking into his, growing
larger and wilder at each denial; and he did
not like to say it again. His wife saw quick
spasm convulse the girls lips and eye, as she
suddenly pressed her hand against her heart.
| care ye i'll, Miss K---?" she exclaimed,
rising. 'Sit ye down, do Let me bring ye
some'at warming. It's sorry getting out this
weather, specially for such weakly body ]
wonder yer folks didn't send Come in, do.'
| Annie was herself again, at the last word of
this harangue.
| "No," she replied, clearly; and, without an
other word, turned to 60.
| When she first used to come in the later
summer days, the lame postmaster had been
accustomed to limp to the doorstep and take
the rein of her pony, while the old lady came
out with cricket as she called it, to assist
her in mounting Anne would smile abstract
edly, bat graciously, sometimes stopping to ex-
change few words with the kind man. or,
suffering the good woman to insert sprig Of
evergreen, or of tansy, over the ears of her pony
whom she characterized as "the darlingest
grown-up colt that ever ye see! !" Latterly,
she had refused the footrstool, and spurned the
offered head-gear, much to the DANES cha
grin but she had suffered the post-man still to
act the part of groom. Tonight, however, she
caught the wet rein in her own hands and