True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-01-25


its alarmed me. Could it be that had
even now a lingering affection for him r
| felt perfectly satisfied that | had done
right, and yet l was very sad. Herbert
could never be mine, I said, for if he had
loved me he would have sought me before
this. Had consulted my happiness in
thus dismissing Raymond? Was it such
crime to love me, that I should send him
with scorn away? No, l had not done
wrong, said Better live lonely and uh-
loved always, than do Sacrilcge to Sophie's
memory, or unite myself to man, who,
though once my ideal, I could no longer
look up to. So I sat- one winter morning,
ruminating on the darkness that had gath
cred around my pathway, and which it
seemed no bright cloud was ever to pene-
trate, when knock at my door startled
me from my reverie. 1t was servant,
with the information that a gentleman de-
sired my presence in the parlor. "My
guardian then has come to take me home,"
I said, for my term was nearly out "Was
I 50 soon to leave?" I thought Of the
friends was leaving, the only ones | now
had; and tears came to my eyes as | des
cended the stairs. With trembling steps
| approached the parlor. paused mo-
ment to recover composure, and then
slowly entered the room, but still with
downcast eyes, for I dreaded to meet the
reality of my now almost forgotten guar
dams presence. The French window was
close by the door, and as I passed it, hear
ing the bell Of the public academy, which
was Immediately in front of Madame
As seminary, ringing for school, l
involuntarily glanced out. A snow had
fallen during the night, and the street and
roofs were covered with the pure white
mantle. Two little village girls were
truding along, leaving deep footprints at
every step, but they did not seem to mind
either this or the cold. "Ahw said I,
"they have father and mother, they have
brothers and sisters to love-were 1 toe
thus blessed, I could willingly be poor, I
also could cheerfully trudge through the
snow to school But there is no one to
love me, 1 am alone in the wide, wide
world"
But suddenly at this thought, l was re.
called to myself, by a person rising: and
now was at last compelled to look up
All! what was my astonishment and de-
light, when instead of my guardian, be-
held Sophie's brother, who advanced with
open hands and eloquent eyes to meet me-
"Dear julia" he said and drew me to the
sofa. Then he poured forth in burning
language, the love so long kept back, and
the reason why he had delayed.
: al have loved you from the first, dea1
t Julia" he said, "but well did | guarc
A my secret Sophie's warm affection fo
= her friend endeared me to you before
+ saw you, and / was prepared to love a
once. But | fancied that my feeling
S could never be returned. You SCENE,
l ever to be pre-occupied, as if already Sc
| cretly won. Then Willard came. ha,
known for long time, that he had no
| loved our Sophie with the changeles
Q love that her warm heart deserved, and
: YOU l .saw-with what bitterness non
q may know-his wavering affections turn
, Your noble conduct, at that sad period
|, endeared you still more to me. Yet l some
a times fancied it was your love for Sophie
: and wish to spare her feeling, more thai
: dislike to him that compelled you to shu
o his attentions. l knew, after her death
e he would seek you as soon as decenc
: would permit. Icasually heard that it wa
s he you had met at the spring, about which
n before I met you, Sophie had told me-
d feared-oh! how | feared-that he wa
/ the one | had pursuaded myself you secre
d ly loved. 1 heard of his visit to you, an
u ;despaired. The agony that followed, 20
d cannot imagine. But when few day
% since l saw the. notice of his sailing ft
d Europe, | thought that there might "
e be hopes for me- And now tell me thu
4 you will come and make our desolat
" home glad with your bright presence
d you know not the sadness that seems res
d ing there, since we have laid our darlin
ID down to sleep. / have not rested, day
| night since | heard that Willard saile'
u; but travelled straight here. Say, will 20,
dear Julia, bs mine" ,.s..3.
1t There could be but one answer to sue
r. an appeal. With my head buried on h