The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1856-11-04
ERNEsrINR MELVILLE.
Throw up the other end of that rose

Throw up the other end Of that rose
wreath The arch is donep shouted Viii
Hasting, as he slid down the trunk of th'
great oak, after fastening the wreath over ,
thick arch Of ever-greens which formed the
entrance to large bower. A flower peepec
out fl, m the green walls, "a seat OF moss raj
around the bower, and an altar stood in the
centre, on which lay prayer book. In q
niche stood the Grecian vase, filled with tea
roses, the arrangement of Ernestine Melville
Every one wondered how little Nestle
could busy herself SO cheerfuly, adding a
touch here and there, twinlng a wreath, oI
suspending hoop, when she had been so sad
and miserable all the summer about this very
affair. Yet so it was, there was not sunni.
er smile or "a nerrier voice than hers in that
band of young maidens who were garnishing
that forest no, k for her sisters bridal.
Every twig had been gathered up from the
forest floor, all the leaves and stems had van
ished, and the grass looked green and fresh.
The air was fragrant with the garlands sus-
pended from the trees, and it was still, for
the birds had been frightened away by this
unlocked for invasion by score Of young men
and maidens at dawn that morning.
All were gone except Ernesthe Melville,
who had been left to watch against intrusion
of man or beast till one OF the girls should
have made her preparations for the wedding,
and returned.
She entered the bower, and laying her
head back against the green wall, she sat qui-
city thinking Of the occasion, and of all that
had led to it. She had been the cause of her
sisters happiness; she had yielded up her
own choice gladly, when she suspected that
her sister loved the one who had devoted
himself to her for many months, though he
had not declared himself her lover. She had
withdrawn herself from his society, had even
gone from school to teach, that he might win
her cherished Miriam instead of returning
home. She had been lonely, and sometimes
sad, during the summer, while she had been
assisting Miriam in her preparations, and not
a few had guessed of the truth; for many of
her companions knew that while Miriam was
at the South for her health, Horace Read had
paid her every attention love or thought could
dictate. But when the radiant Miriam came
greeting him rs yet stranger, that he had
changed the object but not the tenor of his
affections.
she took up the prayer book, and glancing
over its pages, threw herself before the altar,
and prayed. Her heart needed divine intlu-
ences In that hour, than even the solemn for
est could bring.
Teach me to calm this wild, unsanctified
hears. Oh teach me to be content with Thy
will, and to be satisfied with thy love, she
heard a rustllng near her, ana rising TO her
feet, she stood face To face with Horace Read.
HIS face flushed, then paled; but he sat
down upon the seat where she had halt fallen
with surprise.
Nestle. | heard your prayer. My own
heart taught me your meaning. Had L
known what has just been revealed to me not
by your words aione, little time ago, we
mignt both have been saved lifetime of mis-
cry. | can do nothing now to avert the con
sequences OF one hour, when, wounded by
your coldness, flew to Minam.'
Horace Read, no more, no more; can
not bear you now.'
And clasping her hands to her almost
bursting head, she went out from the bower
and fled to the house, just outside the forest
bower.
There was time for agonzing, sickening
thought, ere she could obey Mlram's hurried
call to come and assist her, for she had Just
sent Horace for her, and was watching for her
coming
She could have borne it all alone unknown
to Others as she had thought it; but that the
secret Of her life was known, and TO hlm a
boye all Others, and at such moment, it
seemed more than she could bear. She had
50 fondly believed that he had never loved
her. and she could SO calmly greet him and
with him with tins belief; but now,
what could she do! She would flee.
'Enestlne, l am sick; 50 sick that / can
not sit up any longer, were the first words
with which Miriam greeted her. Il have
been trying to conquer II, but / cannot
And the pale young glrl sank ON the floor
before the words had eft her lips.
Frightened at the deathly palor on her
checks, and the dusty purple OF her lips, En-
nestlne ran TO the window, and seeing her ia
ther IN the garden, she muteiy motloned him
to come To her.
He came slowly up the stairs, aud when
he reached the door, the white foam stood on
Mirlam's lips, and strange look played for
n moment over her face. He staggered lor-
ward, alarmed and weak, and Ian his hand
on her brow. 1t was cold, and her rigid
hands were stitfening more and more.
In moment she recovered from the vio-
lencc of her attack, and Ernestine sent SER
want for Horace.
He came soon, but she was calm again as
she had been ten minutes before, but she mo-
toned him away. The violence of the attack
left Miriam so weak and sick that the we'd
ding was delayed day after day, and then
Miriam told Ernestine they need make no
other appointmcnt-she should never marry
Horace Read. She gave no explanation to
her, said nothing to any one Of her designs,
and only told Horace that she wished to be
released from her engagement.
He did not linger day at the village, but
went away, none knew whittier.
Three years went by, and Ernestine and
Miriam were travelling through the West with
heir father. They were just stepping on