The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, 1856-09-18
"a 90 o. Bye.
BY L. VIRGINIA FRENCH.

a.. ..
BY L. VIRGINIA FRENCH.
We were within a mile Of the vii
lage. The twilight was fast closing in
around us, the mountains peaks to
eastward layklike dim clouds along the
horizon, and the first star of eve sprang
suddenly into the sky, as we dashed
through aEttle murinuring stream, and
wound slowly up the gentle ascent be-
yond. On one side lay a field Of wav.
ing corn, but on the other the lofty
trees OF a forest like grove crowded
down to the road, and swaycd their
plumy branches to erefreshing breeze
Ut evening. Gaining the summit ofthe
emlnence we were again plunging for
ward ut brisk trot, when the coach sud-
denly came to stand, and looked out
to ascertain the cause. AT this moment
a gentleman advanced hastily from
the large white gate which opened in
to the park-like enclosure, saying as
he advanced:
'Good evening, Mr.. K, any of
my folks with you to night?"
"No Sir, not this time" responded
the driver, "golang there," and he
touched up his horses, and was about
to move forward.
''Stay a moment, "I'll 60 with you,
your mails have news for me doubt
less"
Every well, inside if you please"
And the tall gentleman sprang in, and
quietly took seat in front of ME.
"GoOd bye :" it was q clear, sweet
voice from out the shadow. started
and glanced toward the gate. A little
white figure, before unnoticed, was
closing it, and as we drove off, /
saw the light form glide like a spirit
down the deep shaded avenue. and in a
moment it was lost amid the surround
ing gloom. True it was little figure,
but | knew it was not child, for no
child's voice is SO full Of the tender
pathos that comes but with years.
"Good-bye!'' it was sweetly spoken,
but the husband did not hear it, he
sat on the opposite side. and the voice
was drowned amid the rattle of the
wheels, and trampling of the horses, as
the old coach moved On. / say hus-
band. for / know that it was IL qc1e'S
'good-bye,"-so full was the low tone
of earnest tenderness,-so fi'aught with
the love that only woman's heart can
know,--and timidly uttered withal, as
if she feared to betray her hearts deep
secret to the ear of a stranger, and
hoped it would be heard only, as it
was only intended for him.
81 thought they certainly would
have reached home tonight" was ut
tered half audibly, and 1 turned to look
at my companion. As nearly as | could
see by the faint light which broke up
on us, as we emerged from the shad-
ows of the woodland, he was a large,
fine looking man, with Roman features,
and much of that unconscious air of
mingled courtesy and command, which
is distinguished characteristic of the
true Southern gentleman. And who
were "they?" Near and dear ones
they must have been, for she had
come to the gate with him to We
come them. Was it a poor friend
"a reverend parent--a long absent
brother--a we'll beloved sister? l could
not tell and so as we ratified along,
fell into fit of musing. I followed the
little white figure whose gentle "good-
bye" still fingered upon my ear to her
home, which lay nestled behind those
tall shadowy trees. l felt us though
something good and beautiful had gone,
and we were journeying OIL alone. In
an hour, perhaps, the husband would
return, and the same sweet voice would
welcome him, for this goodbye" was
only for little while-you could tell
that--foT there was no grief in it, it
was only modest and hopeful, and low
ing. And then thought to myself
how is it with them9 Does this proud
looking husband neoer hear the soft
"good-byes" which go out to bim from
the gentle heart he leaves belinda Is
the sweet cadence of that voice oJaoays
drowned amid the rush and rattle Of
life's onward wheels out of
heart by the din of the worlds dusty
and crowded thoroughfaresa 1t may
be so, and it may not-Icannot tell. 1t
may be 80, for there are many such.
Something beautiful is ever telling us