True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-05-23

EHth's lips, Is slie sung oher simple ac-
ccnpaniSs5at 81 Ne guitar, and with the
fuller, deeper music Of Charles voice, they
sat Hrapt in their happiness, unconscious
-(at least one of them)-of the feelings
rife within their hearts of what heighteu-
ed their enjoyment.
Edith was unconscious. She was fully
aware, it is true, that life was gaining ev-
cry day fresh charmes. To her eye the
blue vault had never looked $50 deeply,
darkly, 50 intensely blue" The birds had
surely never sung SO sweetly, nor the very
flowers borne so bright hue; and yet, to
all appearance, as time wore on, she was
not so glceful nor so wildly frolicksome as
usual. No longer would her voice be de-
tected in the ringing laugh, but smiles
were rippling and dimpling o'cr her face,
in her quiet heart happiness. Yes, in her
heart of hearts, what spring of deepioy
was bubbling up almost to overAowing,
quietly unknown to others, but thrillingly
alive to herself; so intense at times, that
those sweet eyes would glisten with un-
shed tears at the very thought that death
might come and bear her off from SO bright,
50 joyous a world, where life itself was
bliss. Her unusual quietness-her ftful
and radiant blushcs-the SOULFUL glances
the manner that was stealing so softly,
yet so perceptibly Ger the young girl,
toning down, as it were, her high spirits,
was noticed by her mother; but her con-
cIusion was simply "that Edith is growing
into a woman, and will not be such hoy
den as dreaded"
Edith was unconscious But not so
the dreamy student. He, though albeit
as much child in the actual business Of
life as Edith, was much better skilled in
the hearts lore. lie had seen the flash of
JOY which frightened her eye-had watch.
ed the check kindling at his approach,
and the smile of womanly sweetness
wreathing her exquisite lip at his word:
or glance of approval.
He had become, with Mrs. Morton's ac
quiescence-having nothing to occupy
him, he had informed her-Edith's in
structor in French; and he saw how any
thing but wearisome was the daily task
and, in the solitude of his chamber, stole
welcomely into his mind the thought thai
he had taught her practically to coniugatc
through all it's infections tho verb Amer
Mrs. Morton very often complained tt
Edith that she neglected her sewing fol
her book, her guitar, her evening ramble'
but she was the widows only child, hel
bright gleam of sunshine; her idlencs'
was overlooked, and she was allowed tt
have her own will, and continued to be the
constant companion of Charles Lennard.
1t was q moonlight evening in the latter
end of October. Edith, Mrs. Morton, al
elderly lady-visitor, and Charles ramblet
about a quarter of mile from the village
to place called the Coolspring, to enjo,
one of the nights which October had sto
len from summer, and, delighted with th'
beauty of the lonely, sequestercd spot
where the moonbeams rested so brightly ant
refectingly on the rustic spring-now bub
bling up from the rich green, velvett
sward-now hiding in the thick grass, an,
anon revealing itself by its glittor-tha
the old ladies seated themselves on tn
rude bench for cozy chat of "auld Ian!
syne," and "when we were girls, you re
member" Charles and Edith were stand
ing some distance from them, watchin
"the silver tops of moon-touched trees,
Very quietly had they thus stood drinkin
in the quiet loveliness of this enchautin
scene, and no sound was heard but tn
melowed hum of the village. borne bu
echoingly to their ear, aud the rustling c
the foliage, as it was kissed by the nigh
breeze.
r edith p and his voice was low, "i
, this not beautiful. | swear that | coul
be here content forever, were you but wit
me. But would you, dear Edith 7"
A quick, eager, flashing gaze, as he
: eye was for the instant raised to his owl
: was her answer. Twas the look of SON
q wondering and awakened child, as to ii
= consciousness of her feelings towar
:, Charles stole upon her beautifully, thoug
i strangely; and something of gladness WI
!. in the melody of the child-like, trusting
: and low-toned voice with which she breatl
ed, rather than uttered, "Oh, yes"
. "Dearest Edith" !" was all that Charl'
i said for some moments, as he held the Ii
It tie trembling hand in his own, then pl
c cling it within his arm, he drew her to ii
= shade of large tree, under whose folia:
. lay the fallen trunk of an oak, upon whit
they sat.
u dearest Edith" he again said, as sh
5, with downcast eyes, blushing even in tn
h dim light at his impassioncd tones and 10
:. ing words, "promise mo that you W
. love me and think fondly of me for Il
. next two years | am doomed to wandt
70 and then, when l have fulfilled my gut
g dian's wishes, that you will be my wifi,
h My own Edith, sayr'
n. You could almost hear tho beating
!. that young heart, as she thus sat listeni
' at his side, shrinking and trembling frt
N the arm thrown around her waist, a
d. turning in timid mOdesty from the ey