Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1855-10-18

that my mother had failed to apply for the
remittance ] had sent to her from the LAND ol
gold, suggested the idea that perhaps my
letters to her had not been received and Il
hers had failed, why might not those had
written to Julia have shared the same fate
Still cannot. and will not doubt the con-
stancy of my dear Julia As for my travel
/ ling companion, he is probably some relative.
" ho Knows but he may be my cousin-ln-law
or uncle-n-l law, or some other future rela-
tive;
May inquire, sir, if you are related to
Squire EIlmores family" was my next
query.
Related! oh no, sir, not at all. Pm
merely an acquaintance. lam expected there
this evening; | promised Miss Gilmore
would come wihom faiL.'
This answer only increased my agitation,
but fearing lest should betrav my feelings,
] leaned my head on my hands and feigned
fatigue, The more reflected on the sub
Jcct, the frmer hold did the green eyed
monster' gain over me. Sill determined
that would not thus distrust my Julia
Perhaps, thought |, this fellow is only con-
celied coxcomb, and wishes to pass himself
off as an accepted lover
raised my head, and assuming a jocuar
tone, asked my companion if he thought Miss
Gilmore really handsome.
i will leave You to Judge for yourself said
he, 'as | happen to have a fac sim,le of her
sell wIlh me-. Saying this he drew forth a
neat gold locket from his vest and handed it
toward me.
Heavens! how the blood rushed tony face.
II was my last parting gift to Julia. took
1t IN my hand-l knew it well. 1t was
double case, and remembered that my own
immature had been set in the reverse. Alter
gazing moment at Jnia's wel.known face,
turned the locket, opened the opposite side.
and jound ii empty!
How managed % keep nv temper know
not; but | returned the locket to my com
pan'on, and became comp parativey calm Just
as we stopped in front Of Squire Gilmore 3
residence. Julia was seated on the verandah
IN front Of the dwelling, and a my companion
alIghted, heard the exclamation: He's
come! fall from her lips.
What change had the last hour wrought
in my feelings! Had not the incidents above
mentioned lranspired, | should have hastened
to embrace her whom had hitherto supposed
a model of constancy. As it was, thanked
my stars that had learned her per6dy in
time to save myself the modification that
might otherwise have ensued.
My reflections were now interrupted by
request on the part of my companion that
would all2ht from the coach, while he should
take roll of canvass from beneath nv seat
| compiled, taking especial care, however,
not to be observed by the perfdlous Julia
But as i'll luck would have it, Squire Ell
more gardener saw and recognized me, and
at the same time exclaimed
Here, Julia! good news! Mr. George
has comet
Coniound the fellows mpudencel Icould
have stransled him. turned to regain my
seat in the vehicle, but in an instant Julia
had flown to my side, thrown her arms around
my neck and almost smothcrcd me with kiss
es! was thundersruck.
why. Julia what means-indeed, Miss,
said !, hestaling and stammerIna: 'yon for
got you had friend and visitor present
Julia blushed and turned to my companion
You will pardon such a manifestation in
your presence, Mr.. Martin, when inform
YOU that this is The original Of The portrait
hare employed you 10 pcini'
comprehended in an instant Mr. Mar
lin was only an artist who had been intruscd
with my miniature TO transfer copy on can
vass, and that he mi ght the better accomplish
MS design, it had been temporarily taken
rom the lockei. soon accompanied the
party INTO the house, and as the canvas was
and bchcId my own self faithfully
thereon, | confess that all my
jealousy, like Bob Acres courage, suddenly
oozcd out at the ends of my fingers.
Instead Of feeling an iIl-will toward nv
eIow-travelcr, | compImcnted him highly
IN his professional skill, and, at his request,
gave him good recommendation to the
public in general, and all my friends ia
Just one week from tha, day. Miss Tnlia
Fillmore become Mrs George H.. and since
hat time we have had more than one hearty
augh at my jealous indignation toward poor
innocent portrait painter.