True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-07-18

a pale, intellectual looking young man,
who was to supply his place in the sacred
DESK and in the heart of his people. Err
nest De Verrian was one we'll calculated
for the hallowod calling he had chosen.
Words Of the most glowing eloquence fell
from his lips, and his dark, piercing eyes
seemed lit with fire from on high No
wonder that the affections of his people
clung to him with magnetic tenacity,
that not even the foul shafts of SANDER
could have severed. He had not been
long with us, before it was whispered that
the young clergyman had taken deep in
terest in Rosale Ellsworth and on dit
made free to assert that the lovely bache-
lor-parsonage would not he long without a
mistress. Reginald came less frequently
to the cottage, but the young pastor be-
came constant visitor.
One day Rosalie came to me, and asked
me to walk with her, saying she had some
thing to communicate to me. fancied
that her cheek was paler, and her tone less
buoyant than usual, but 1 made no re-
marks on it, and we walked on in silence,
until we reached the deep dell below the
cascade, known as the Haunted DELL
sat down, in silence, and Rosalic threw
herself down on the messy seat beside me,
and burying her face in my dress, she ex-
claimed,
"Oh, Clara, l have never been so wretch
ed since l left my city prison, as am at
this moment v'
knew how Intellectual it is to attempt
to console grief with words, so I only
drew her closer toward me, and wept ii
sympathy. 1t was lorg, long time be
fore she raised her head, and then she
said, looking fixedly into my face
"Ernest De Verrian loves me-has off
cred me his hand in marriage" mani
tested no surprise, and she went on, "Ht
is good and noble, and respect and es
TEEN him, oh so much. I am almost en-
raptured with his eloquence, but l do MOI
feel that deep, quiet affection which | have
so often dreamed of bestowing on the be
ing should take to my heart, and call by
the holy name of husband. | cannot ae
count for it, but l feel the most unuttera
BILE aversion to becoming his"
"Then why accept him." I asked calm
ly.
"Alas, my friend, l have no other course
left. Mr.. and Mrs. Ellsworth desire it
and I can refuse nothing they ask.
vowed before high Heaven, when they
took me from living tomb to their home
to their confidence and love, that if, in af
ter years, they should require anything o
me, be the sacrifice ever so great, it shoulc
be done. The time has now come: Mr.
and Mrs Ellsworth love Ernest De Verriar
as their own son, and they have informed
Inc of their desire that | should become
his wife, l feel warm gratitude towarC
Mr.. Dc Verr,an, for condescending to offe
himself to one whose birth is wrapped il
obscurity; one who may, perchance, b
the offspring of sin and shame In thre
short weeks, so they have arranged it,
am to become Mrs. De Verrian. Oh
there is agony-bitter, burning agony ii
the thought! l shall make him an un
loving wife! My very soul rebels at tn
idea of being has wife-it seems sin,
crime but because l realize how muc
purer and holier he is than I-perhaps-
alas 1 know not what to attribute it to.
All gentle Rosalic, in few words tn
reason could have been told, thou loves
Reginald St. Eustace.
:. All was preparation at the little cottag
farmhouse. Mr.. De Verrian looked radi
ant with happincss--a deeper color flush
ed his cheeks, and brighter light shon
in his lustrous eyes. 1t was plain to Sc
that he almost idolised his tancee hi
eyes followed her full Of love, and whe
he addressed her, his voice sunk to th
low, thrilling cadence of tenderness.
The wealth of Mr.. De Verrian warran
ed the splendor which was to celebrate tn
joyous event, and the old farmhouse bloom
, ed like palace under the costly decor'
, tions. Rosalie moved about pale as
> spectre, and her wandering eyes told
me plainly the tale of her suffering. B
others this unnatural calmness, this drea
5 dispair, was deemed only the natural 81
/. berness arising from the realization of tt
] responsibility she was so soon to take upo
| herself, as the wife Of our Village Pasto