Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1857-12-12

without hesitation or faltering, though il cost
me severe pang to do So
| !. did not know until L had been settled in
| my aunts home a week, and my letters in
package directed in Leander's hand, arrived
without line from him, how had hoped
through all that he would not consent TO be re-
leased, bat would still cling to me-
| But he, too, had his indignation-he was
hurt that should have arranged for nv de-
partu5e without consulting him, and he was
panied at the GOODNESS of my note So through
the faults of others, and Misunderstanding of
| their own, two hearts that really and truly
loved were severed. Alas that the story had
so many counterparts
My aunts income by considerable economy.
supported US, and enabled us to retain our
place In the society to which we had been ae-
| custOmed. 1t had been more than she antici-
clpated when she had sent me home to nv IA
ther, or she would never have exposed me 10
the trials have passed
As time passed on / had lovers, as any pretty
girl VIII, TOR, if might believe my mirror and
| my IrIShIs' was not without attractions, but
none Of them touched my heart
On looking back L can soc that was ALWAYS
waiting, waiting with an underlined expectation
| oil something that never chme. Was il for Lee
ander that | waited? If it was / never ac-
knowledged 1T to myself, but it was with ter
rlole pang' dumb but very real sorrow, that
served as an excuse for Illness it was so like il
that heard after two or three years, that he
was married
My step mother wrote it to me-this we'd
! ding news -dilating maliciousy upon the
wealth and beauty of the bride, who had come
from distant city to reside at Holme Place
upon the planting and fencing the painting
and glazing, aud beautifyng Of the old house
| and upon the loads of beautiful furniture,
which the brides father had sent to refurnisb
the old rooms.
answered very calmly that Leander Holme
was worthy any lady in the land, and bade her
congratulate him in my name if she saw him.
hoping thus, believe to disarm her susnicions
and convince him that 1 had forgotten my love
for him -O'0
went more into society after this, and il
was remarked that was gayer than had for
merly been. was not aware of it, for only
knew that was striving to forget L had no
other object in life now.
The years seemed very long and weary. So
elety did not satisfy me- and 1 came to be
Iooked upon as coquette when, one after an
other, l rejected the suitors whom nv gaiety
anG oriiilancy OF manner brought to my feet.
l became restiessly unhappy, with craving
for some object for thought and duty that would
not lind satisfaction in the life led
At that time my aunt had q severe illness.
and the new cares which then deyolved upon
me were very good for me. From this illness
she never fully recovered and for two or three
years before death came to relieve her from
in
minlstering to hercomfort, grew more patient
and quiet.
By-and-by was alone. I laid her who had
oeen all that mother could have been 20 me
tor many years, in the grave, and was left
without care or duty. My means were now am
pie, 1or my aunt had bequeathed her property
to me, and, except a tender sorrow for the dead.
should have been very happy. But was not
brought one of my little sisters to live with
me, very glad TO receive her from such a home
went for her, and while on my visit attended,
the village church, and from beneath th nv black
veal saw Leander Holme and the woman who
occupied the place that should have been mine
She was looking pale and ill., It was said she
was unhappy, and that her husband treated
her, though always courteously, with great
coldness. felt q miserable, choking feeling
half delight, half bitterness, at the tbouSht
that he did not love her, but baffied even NV
step-mother's curiosity by my impenetrability |
am sure she did not learn whether took any
interest in the dwellers at Holme Place
More years passed. L still had offers though |
no longer young. AT last determined to ae- |
cept me. Arthur Meriden was a man worthy
OF my esteem-wOrthy of my love, only that I |
had no love to give. He was satisfied when T |
wife.
But as soon as 1 had promised, the old |
wretched, waiting feeling came buck 1t
seemed as II vaguely expected something to |
lnterpose and prevent the cOnsummation of
that unholy engagement And as the day ap- |
preached L grew more and more and more
wretched till finally, on a sudden impulse 7 |
determined to go down to my father 3 to look |
once more upon the old familiar scenes the |
village church and Holme Place, before / |
should have promised away my freedom, mis-
erable as it made Inc Of thinking Of past love
went, and the first sound that greeted me
as entered the village was the toIlng of the |
bell, and the carriage drew up beside the road |
as long funeral procession passed In the |
first carriage sat Leander HOlme very pale. |
but calm! 1t was his wife-she whom L had |
always thought as occupying my place-that |
they were conveying to the tomb.
l remained at my fathers for many davs
not that l hoped or wished to see Leander |
Holnle, but because l literally lacked the |
strength and energy for my homeward Journey. |
Ny Sole thought was that now Leander was |
free. If he still loved me he might at some |
future time seek me, but was about to place |
barrier between US, and to become the wife |
Of one whom l now knew more than ever / |
could not love |
At last, as the day came that was to start |
on my return, felt that / had gone too far TO |
retract, and must fulfill the promise that had |
voluntarily made to an honorable man / lit |
tie knew the freedom that would almost have
given life itself to secure was already mine
l had scarcely reached my home when n |
messenger arrived to beg me- in the name Of |
Arthur Meriden, to 60 at once to his house
lie had been thrown from his horse that after |
noon and fatally injured. He was still living |
and bic, and most anxious TO see me once
more. God only knows how / reproached nv |
self for the FIRST intense feeling of gladness that
flooded my soul as / heard those terrible It'd |
ings.
stood beside him to the last determined |
as a penance for my unfeeling joy, to spare
myself no one Of his painful though short suf-
In fpv nn tba
that was to have dawned upon our wedding. he
breathed his last. His death set me free
Yes, WAS free, but my freedom did not bring
me any hope Leander had gone to Europe
Immediately on the death Of his wife. Holme
Place was closed and it was said the farm was
getting into ruinous condition as years passed
on and its master did not return He held no
correspondence with any one at home, except
in the briefest business letters.
So more years passed away / busted myself