The Jeffersonian. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, 1858-06-17
No, no. said Jennie, do net believe

: q
blame you that | have deceived myself
with false hopes. | should have known
better than to raise my eyes to one so far
above me In wealth and station. | should
have known that your friends would
scorn me, and that with your education,
intellect, and high social position, you
yourself would look down on one so
poor, unpolished and superficial as N.Y.
self; and only tolerate my presence from
motives of generous pity. But it all over
now. shall trouble you no more by my
presence. 60, and must bid you an ey-
erlastiDg FAREWELL
Edward she sobbed, it were better
know, but | cannot allow one to whom
owe my life to 60, believing that I have
carelessly deceived and sported with bis
feelings. | was grateful for the great SER
! vice you rendered me at first; and my
treatment of you since has ever been but
! a reflex of my feelings. What can I say
more 2
Say, 0 say that you do return my fond
love-
well, do, though I ought not to say
it.
%, may believe this, dear Jennie
aid be-
1T is true, what else is false, said she
blushing.
Aud yet you bade me leave you
I i knew not that you cared for NE then,
and only did as ny father hade me-
nd tbok
favor but the gold for which so many give
their lives
4 fear not; he has ever favored the
richest of my suitors."
Then | will remove mountains but
what will win it, if you will wait for ne,
dear Jennie. [ have this very day receiv
ed a tempting offer to 90 to the land of
gold, which for your sake | will accept
to- orrow. If win what go to seek,
l will return and claim your hand If l
die, drop a tear for one that loves you
better than life
1t were pity to spoil such a beautiful
romance as this, said Jennie's father,
stepping out from behind the shadowy
damask window curtain, and looking
from one to the other with quizzical air.
I Il little thought he continued, when [
dropped off into doze upon that window
seat this evening, that was to be wit
ness in my dreams of such aBsptercsting
theatrical performance as this.
Both gazed upon the old gentleman
fer moment in astoHishnert; and then
Jennie, With the exclamation Father!
upon her lips, sank into seat, and COW
cred her face with her bands, while Ed
ward drew himself up proudly and def
antly, as if prepared for storm, being
none the less astounded at his sudden
appearance, than at the discovery that it
was the father of the girl be loved SO
fondly, whose life he had saved upon the
railroad.
There was silence of some minutes,
and then the old gentleman said. DO
you remember me, young gentleman
i think do, said Edward drily.
And Go you think | owe you any
thingl'
a few curses perhaps, for stealing your
daughters heart
'And how much gold for the life you
periIled your own to save 7
None. | never peril my life for gold
'Ah, but you do it every day; and did
1 not hear you just now, Offering to do it
for Jennie 2
That is different matter altogether,
and for her no sacrifice were too dear.
Il see, you value her life great deal
higher than mine; bat it suits ID just now
to estiu ate both at the same price. You
evidently think me a stingy old fellow,
who values copper higher than he does
bis life; and shall have to give you my
Jennie, and my whole fortune, before
you will change your mind.
You mock me, said Edward, disdain-
fully.
We will see. Come here, Jennie
She obeyed tremblingly.
Now, Jennie, is what you told this
young fellow just now, true, about loving
him, and so on!'
( Yes, father, said Jennie, hangiRg her
head.
j 'And you love her, do you, sir 7
/ Better than the whole world beside,
said he.
well, then, shall not be the one to
separate you; for my daughters happl'
ness is more precious to ne than my
whole fortune 1t is true, Edward Low
ell. that | should not have selected one IN
your station for my daughters husband;
but knowing that she has made her own
choice. and that it has fallen upon one to
whom | owe a deep debt of gratitude, |
cbeerfully acquiesee in her decision; and
the more readily, as know she has cho-
sen worthily.'
Il am deeply grateful for your kind
ness and forbearapce, said Edward; but
how know you aught of my merits 7
DO not think because you avoided my
acquaintance, that my watebiul eye has
not been upon you,' said lie Roy, smil-
, ipely. Il heard of your 6lial deyotioni
, of your triumphant resistance of strong
temptation; of your native talent, sour,
aae and nobleuess of soul, till L learned