The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1856-11-04

ace Read well enough to dwell with him, and
promised TO be his wife. The day set apart
for our marriage came and while dressing my
hair, a servant brought me packet found
in bag in chest belonging to former do
mestc. 1t had been brought to the house in
the usual letter bag, but the man having oc.
casson 20 go TO his room before delivering it,
forgot it. the chambermaid saw the bag,
threw it into the chest, and as it was rarely
opened, it lay there till that night. Every
wonder passed away, and though father ask,
cd for the letter bag, and one Of the servants
looked for it, the chambermaid was not ques-
toned, not being supposed to know anything
of it, and the man had forgotten where he
left it. We made new one, and forgot it
| ourselves
THAT packet drove me almost to insanity.
| asked no questions concerning you of Annie
| Clifford, the only one that knew of our en-
gagement, for could not endure TO know il
you were dead or married, until few weeks
ago, and she said that she believed you were
dead, or it was so considered. You may re-
collect that you said in those letters you could
not tell me where to direct to you after so
long time, and l had no means of knowing
where YOU were.'
She stopped for very WEAKNESS. Her words
came so fast she could scarcely breathe.
And your husband-where is be 2 said the
listener hoarsely.
Husbands did not marry. knew you
were true, said she, looking up brightly, hope
fully.
Thank God thank God! was the deep
response.
Miriam was weeping when Ernestine en-
tered she cabin. Springing from her seat,
she clasped both her SISTERS hands in her own
and told her the whole truth, the cause of
her sudden illness, ard sll the sequel to what
had seemed SO strange. In her southern
home she had met Conrad Ilangdon, had be-
come engaged to him and gone home the hap
piest creature on he footstool Of the Crea or.
That for the two years she had been at home,
she had not heard from him, and, Welding
to the strength of Horace Reads pleadnrs,
when one night he threw himself at her feet,
pale and haggard, she consented to be his
wife.
Ernestine's heart was relieved, and she
gave the stranger cordial greeting; and
bringing down her father by word, Miriam
presented her lover with a beaming face.
The old gentleman was delighted. He said
he was bit romantic n spite of his years,
and such II revelation was worth all the IA
tlgue he had endured on the abomnaple Jour
ney he had taken. He never thought he was
starting with his rheumatism and cramp on a
chase after Maram's lover; bnt he shook his
head as he calculated to Ernestine--
Horace Read poor fellowp
The thought had rushed upon her heart as
she entered the cabin at that auspicious mo-
ment when she saw Miriam sitting with tear
tul face, her whole soul going out of her eyes
to the stranger sitting near her, and amid all
Miriam's Joy and her own on account of it.
the narrowing thought would come
'Where on the wide world wanders Horace
Reod?
A dusty traveller alighted from the stage
coach in front of tn, little hotel in CentrevilIe.
His yaise and travelling appointment beto-
kened good breeding and wealth, and his
whole appearance was oriental and little an
tique. His countenance seemed little famil-
lar to the landlord and he was about speak.
ing to him as an old acquaintance; but the
travellers manner gave no indication of ever
having seen him before, and he withdrew his
cordiality, matterlng to himself, for he was
but halt convinced Of the mans identity as a
stranger.
Repairing to his room, he remained long
enough to renew ms appearances, and sailed
forth, taking direct course for the residence
of Mr.. Melville. lie stood moment in an
parent hesitancy at the door, then rang the
bell and was greeted in moment by Ernes.
tine. HIS coming had not been unexpected.
and her cordial heartfelt welcome assured HIM
that 1t was desired
Horace Read came back to his early love
with heart sick and weary of the world
From the hour he had left Centeryille. the
unrest of his life had been almost insupporta
bic. Though JOY sprung up in his heart
when Miriam turned from him, and the
thought Of II life with Enestine dawned upon
his mind, yet how could he seek her, the re
Jected OF her slsteri What could have led
her, Miriam, To send hun from her as she
had done! A suspicion OF the truth, it might
be, and she would view him forever as per-
jured. Turn which way he would, thought
tormented him, and he fled to free himself
from its power. He had been pqued by Err
nestine's coldness, and flying to Miriam, who
received him IN manner SO gentle and win
ming as threw him entirely off bis guard, he
thought for moment how sweet and consol-
ing was such a friend, and, threw himself
heart and fortune at her feet for her disposal.
From her manner, Erncstine had lonc
thought Miriam loved hlm. She had been
the sole guardian Of Miriam's infant years, for
their mother had died in the little girls infan-
cy; and after she had taught and shown her
the beauty and worth II early love, how
could she stand in the way of her happiness
1t would be ungenerous; so she put away the
dreams Of her own heart, to brighten, as she
thought, her sisters destiny.
Perhaps Miriam had not repaid her fond
care; her thousand self-denials; bu, she was
so young thoughtless, Ernestine forgave il.
1t panied her when at last she knew that Mir
lam had long been beloved by Conrad Lang
don that she had not made her confident.
Tor It would have saved her and another,
world of misery