Tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1856, 1855-11-15

woman's existence. Truth is stranger far than
fiction, they say But win cheerfully tell YOU
of it, my dear; for love to linger on the memory
of that dear, dead sister. The portrait is a good
one, very; but there was look in her face that
no artist can transfer to canvass bright child
like expression, that used to fit across her ea-
lures as swiftly as sunbeam across a summer
/ brooklet You could not trace it, nor know
whence it camei but there it was, beautiful and
transitory as a vision
| Miss Harriet patted my shoulder softly, and
gazed musingy into the fire for a moment, as if
she saw some familiar shadow there, and then
resumed:
We all loved and worshipped her, more per-
haps than was right, either for her or for our
selves; but every one admired her Just the same;
and you might easily guess that an ardent, high
spirited boy OF nineteen, like cousin Philip could
not meet such lovely creature every day, and
yet keep his heart whole. He watched her eve
~ glance and motion; he treasured up the faded
howers that dropped from her hand; indeed, he
was like one under the influence of a spell He
was noble, true-hearted fellow and my father
used to hope and wish that she might come by
degrees to like him and that they might thus be
brought together for life.
But as soon as she perceived the whole extent
OF her power, she began, nlaidens will, to use
it waywardly and wilfully. She never noticed
his little attentions she laughed at the wounds
she herself inflicted. When he came in the sum
mer twilight, she would steal away into the gar
den and remain there for hours; aud when the
chilly autumnal evenings came on, she would
nestle down in the chimney corner beside NV
fathers char, and be so absorbed in her book or
needle work that she had never glance or smile
for poor Philip.
Yet Clarissa and could not help thinking
that she liked him after all, tho we never could
convince him of it, or make him believe that she
did not scorn and dislike him.
'One time in particular. / remember distinct
ly. We were in the large, shady old garden, a
merry party, Philip and Eliinor among us. We
talked, among other things, of the language of
flowers; young people, you know, my dear,
love to indulge these bright fancies thus; and
two or three of her gayest young suitors---for
she had hosts of them even then laid fragrant
blossoms at Ellinor's feet, which she twined in
the yellow rings Of her lovely hair, laughing as
she did 50. Poor Philip mustered courage to Of
fer her little red rose bud just peeping through
its green covert of leaves She took it, but with
out speaking; held it for moment, and then
dropped it carelessly, to take some other flower
Il never saw such flush as came over his
forehead moment, and then left it pale as death.
He turned away into another path. l followed
him in moment and found him in little arbor,
with his face hidden in his hands, tried to
comfort him. l told him that Ellinor was a
thoughtless young thing. who scarcely knew rs
yet that she possessed heart, and begged him
not to put too bitter construction on such tri-
vial looks and deeds. but he did not stirpnor
answer INC, so l left him and went back to the
party.
'Ellinor was looking her brightest and lowell
est that evening. There was such delicate
traccry Of bloom in her checks, such brilliancy in
her eyes, and so much vvacity in her looks and
manners, that it almost alarmed me, and brought
uneasy ideas of something supernatural before
my mind.
1T was growing twilight very fast, when l
turned around by chance, and saw Philip in the
deep shadows of the evergreens, leaning against
a tree; he was watching Ellinor with an intent,
earnest look that took in every hutter of her hair
and every beam of her bright eye. felt ready
! to weep myself from sympathy with him, and
regret at her inscrutabe conduct.
1T was not long before our group broke up
and separated My father called from the porch
that it was growing damp and cool; so, when
Elllnor saw Philip coming toward her, she slip
ped her round, dimpled arm into mine, and left
him to escort Clarissa.
began TO rcprove her WELL you may believe
but she only laughed at me, and put her little
white hand over my mouth, that had no al
tentative but to kiss it, and look reproachfully
at her.
Father scolded little to think we had re-
manned out in the evening dew so late but
when she came to coax and kiss him, he called
her his darling little one, and babe her go and
sing one of his favorite songs She complied,
but Philip instead of lingering beside her MS
was his usual won't took up his hat, as if to
depart.
Are you going already, Philip 1 asked,
sprnging eagerly toward him
lie nodded, and beckoned me to accompany
him to the door. ! wciit; but as he paused on
the outer step, apparently about to speak Eli,
nor came tripping to the door with newspaper
which her father desired her to give to Philip.
took Ia hoy
hand and drew her gently to his side, and muir
INJURED something in her ear.
had drawn back some PAGES, but heard
her respond scornfully and with derisive laugh
throwing back the bright curls from her brow as
she spoke
He appeared to urge his request, for she a.
gain exclaimed:
Now and henceforth, never! Do not hope
itn
He said, in slightly elevated tone of voice,
something about India. She replied, still
! laughing:
India or Greenland, tits all one to me- and
! broke from his OBTAINING hand
| Such a look of agony as passed over his
white face | could see it even in the faint stars
| light. She fitted past me up stairs, and l fol.
lowed, grieved and amazed
1t was some time before | mustered courage
to enter her room, which ut length did very
softly. She was sitting with her back toward
| me, ana her head reclining on the table before
her, sobbing and weeping as though her heart
would break Revealed by the dim light of the
lamp, lay a tiny dark object, within the relaxed
clasp of her slender fingers looked little
closer: it was Philips neglected rosebud!
In q day or two we heard people talking o.
Philip Aymer's intended voyage to India. ii
seemed long way further off in those days thar
it does in the present time, and sorry enough We
all were to lose him. He departed very suddenly
and without bidding farewell to any Of us, ex
cept my father, whom he saw at his counting
house; and after he was really gone, for good
and all, began to see change in EIlinor, who
up to this time, had been gay and lively ever
/ / do not think she believed him really in ear
nest, when he spoke of leaving his native coun
try; and when the wide ocean lay between
them, it seemed SIS tho she began, for the frs
/ time, to realize his absence.
Since then, many and many weary year ha.
rolled past, and we have never heard the slight
est tidings of him. For long time we cher
ished the idea of seeing him again; for we die
not think he could ever learn to forget the tei
that were once so dear to him; but we were a
length forced to abandon even the faintest sha
dow of hope.
Alas, it is a melancholy thing to see the din
fires of hope waning and dying in their secre
shrine, and know that the young heart is break
ing beside their ruins; yet such was the sigh
we witnessed daily in our poor Elnor. 1t wa
t,n,nv ponp+bs hafora she would believe that In,