Oroville daily Butte record., 1856-12-10
Otpuille Dailp Dntte ReturN.
MARY ELTON.
A TALE OF wILKsBARRE.

municate to you, and as it is perhaps
not proper that should be party to
your conversation, | will withdraw"
This well-devised ruse completely
entrapped me. 1t would have been
cowardly on my part not to have en-
tered the lists boldly, since Mary had
thrown down the gauntlet. had but
one course left to pursue, and | called
into requisilion all my moral stamina
to nerve me for the task.
"Mr. Elton" said I, when Mary
had closed the door, "pardon the alb
ruptness"with which approach a sub
ject which will perhaps meet as much
with your astonishment at my presump-
tion as it will excite your Indignation
at my temerity. Children of clrcum-
atances, our idols are frequently the
ruthors of hope which can never be
sealized; and our greatest comfort is
often in the enjoyment of what must
eventually prove visionary happiness.
BY fatality over which | had no con-
troll. | have become passioately, ire
vocably attached to your daughter |
need not say that my love is returned,
for it is repaid four.fold. Our beings
are inseparably, relieiously blended,
and it needs but your parental sanction
to secure our happiness" aza4sE
Mr.. Elton at first seemed astonish-
ed; then alarmed, then stupifed, and at
last relaxed into a cold, severe, and
patronizing demeanor. [ expected to
see an indignant burst of passion, and
| believe | should have preferred it to
the calm and marble expression of his
countcnance, as closed my passion
ate rhapsody After few moments of
Ito me) embarrassing silence, Mr.. Ell
ton, in a cold, deliberate, and measur
ed tone, spoke as follows:
"Mr. Woodsby, it is unnecessary to
mention that [ am very much aston
ished at your abrupt proposition The
welfare and happiness of my daughter
is a matter of very deep importance to
me. | must say that | regret the al
fection that has sprung up between
you; not that l suppose you are not
worthy of her, but that you are unable
to support her in the manner to which
she has been accustomed. Your pro-
fession is an honorable and elevating
one, and although you have not, as yet,
gained in it a high reputation, your
talents and industry may one day en-.
sure your success. Ii my daughter
feels that her destiny is irretrIevably
linked with youIs, she shall have my
consent to wed you. But | will inn
pose one condition, as a test of your
sincerity and worthiness.
"Oh, name it." [ enthusiastically
exclaimed "and though it were as dIf-
fcult of execution as conSummating Sy-
siphus' task, or as perilous in purpose
as buffetting the turbid Hellespont, |
will attempt it,"
"It is neither difficult or dangerous.
All that is required is patience and IN
dustry. Listen! If, at the expira-
ton of two years from the present time,
you shall have established an acknow-
lodged reputation in your profession,
and have secured an income that will
comfortably support my daughter, you
shall have my consent" ..
Iunhesitatingly availed myself of the
proposition, and thanked hun for his
generosity. resolved to apply my
self with assiduity to my business, and
force a reputation from the legal fra
ternity.
When | reached the garden in front
Of the house, l met Mary, who was
anxiously waiting to hear her doom.
I related what had passed between her
father and myself, and assured her that
the task did not now seem difficult, as
the incentive to cxertion was so great
that success was sure to follow
Mary did not receive the intelligence
with the satisfaction I anticipated She
had hoped that her father would have
given his consent without imposing any
condition, and was therefore disap.
pointed.
told her that the prescribed time
would soon fly around, and pictured IN
glowing colors the advances | would