Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-12-03

Itromhisknowledge. Besides, coming sud
denly from the inner room one day int
that where he had left them together
he saw Royston leaning over the girl
chair, winding her long dark tresse
round his fingers, and whispering t,
her softly; he even bent over her, ant
/ kissed her without resistance. At frs
Nicholas thought he would charge he
with her deception; but remembering
: her passionate resentment when thwart
} ed he put it off; hoping that she woule
( soon, of her own accord, tell him all.
4 But he spoke to Royston in plair
terms, telling him that his visits in NeviP,
Il Court must be discontinued, and that he
| had done vile wrong in poisoning the
girls mind against her protector SO that
\ she had learnt to deceive him. High
and angry words were exchanged be
tween the two men; but neither of them
chose to make Adie party to the dis
pute. Royston doubted net that he
i should succeed with her whenever he
chose to bring the matter to an issue
since her love fer him had already un.
dermined old feelings of affection and
gratitude; and, Nicholas hoped that the
girls own eyes would be opened by and
by to the real character of her lover
i Things were in this position when Roy
ston left Eversley just before Christmas.
/ Perhaps Martha alone had complete
view Of all that passed, for her watch
never relaxed.
i Itwas after dinner on Christmas Eve
that Nicholas and Adie, sitting by the
fire, both of them unoccupied, first felt
how wide the gulf that lay between them
had become. The unnatural restraint
CALLED both; but neither could or would
break it down. The old man was silent
and mournful; Adde'S thoughts yearned
to comfort him; she longed to put her
arms about Grizzlies neck, and to pull
his beard, and hear him call her pet
names as he used to do; but one remen-
brance of the absent Royston tied her
down to her chair. AT length some al
fusion recalled the Christmas Eve long
ago, when the engraver had taken the
little child from the winter night into
the shelter of his poor but warm hearth.
Could that tall beautiful girl be the small
helpless frozen thing that might have
died in the snow UNDECIDED but for him?
and was this distance and estrangement
to be the sole reward of his charity?-
Perhaps in all his solitude the old man
had never felt more desolate or more
lonely than now, because the heart that
he had striven SO long to bind to him
self was turned from him. He looked
at her questioningly when she was not
observant, and saw thatin her face which
told him she was not happy, as she had
been, or as she ought to be, and he ex-
perienced feeling of intense wrath
against Royston as its cause.
When the Minster-bell began to ring
for prayers, Adie rose YEARLY from her
chair, and said she would go to the SER
vice. She did not ask for Nicholas COM
pany as she used to do but donned her
| bonnet and cloak, and went out alone
When she had got into College Lane
her heart smote her with the reproach
that this was not kind, and turning hastily
back, she re-ascended the stairway to
the room. The engraver had pushed
/
on the table, land his face buried in them.
Adie, with quick remorse, sprang to-
wards him crying, go, Grizzie, Grizzie,
don't be grieved with me; let me tell
you all; let as be friends, as we were
before Laurence Royston came to Ever
sley."
The old man lifted up his head, and
held forth his arms; shenestled into them
and began to weep passionately on his
| breast.
"Adie, child, why did you ever mis-
trust me?" said Nicholas. "Was l not
always kind to you? would l not almost
have coined my flesh into gold to have
i purchased you pleasure?" She only
sobbed the more at the gentle rebuke
of his tone. "Adie; you love this bad
man, may, do not leave me,-you love
fhim?" She did not answer, but wept
on. "You should have suspected him
when he tempted you to deceive me-
Who but bad treacherous man would
have played his part? If he had come
to me openly and honorably, I would
have given youtoh him; but he must needs
steal you away from your best friend
1t was not honest, Adie; it was crue
and unjust; the act of base, creeping
nature. He was never, in his best days
worthy of you, my child; how much less
then, now, when he is all sullied with
his crooked ways through the world
calloused, faithless, and, though you may
not see it, cruel toop'
Adie had withdrawn herself from his
circling arm, and stood aloof, still tear
full, but indignant too.
go, Grizzie, you do not know him.
she said, with passionate force. "He is
kind and gentle; he has never spoken one
hard word of you; he would have told
you weeks since, but he knew you did
not like him, and we dreaded that you
would command us to part"
"Adie, it was an evil day that brought
him over our threshold; you will live tc
rue it. o, my hearts darling, | would
let you 20 to him this instant, if l did moi
see such ominous shadows about his fu
ture He is a wicked, evil man, and ht
will drag you down with him. 1t would
have been better to let you perish in the
snow ten years ago than to you give t.
him now"
Adie stood silent; the glistening tear
hung on her lashes, but ceased to fall;
f bright spot burnt on her cheek, but he
passion cooled.
! 'Grizzie will you hear him speak 70
himself?" she said TREMENDOUSLY; II can
notplead our cause with you, for it make
! my heart burn to hear such words agains
: him from you. But you do not know hin
! or you would speak far otherwise"