Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1858-12-22
RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA,

uiStdnCe 10 gdIu0T the GaOlee u0WerS, still
glistening with peafIy drops of dew, which
he handed to me, saying II thought per-
haps you liked flowers" Indeed did; and
those | must have been particularly partial
to, for thought them decidedly the most
beautiful had ever beheId.
Willie taught me how to draw. and
when tired of that, we would wander to-
gether gathering flowers; sometimes ra-
cling with Carlo, and sometimes | would
SIT quite still and listen to Willie for hours.
as he would tell me of the beautiful home
he once had, and of his fafsof friends. Ev
! cry day found US together, and though we
knew it not then, we were fast growing very
dear to each other. For several years t
went on thus, when one slssy my father call
ed me to him, seeming suddenly to have
recollected that was almost young ladv
with comparatively no education, and told
me that | must prepared in a month to
60 with him to Langdae Seminary. This
| did not at all fancy, and told him posi-
lively | did not intend to 90. "WhY not?"
he asked. Il don't want to leave Willie !;
he will have nobody to love him then, and
Oh! L can't 60" L sobbed
"Willie Granton! the pauper beogar
boy my daughter love him YES, You
shall go, and he too I" and he strobe up
and down the floor, then paused before me,
really pale with rage. [ will not recount
what he said, but then I knew nv doom
was fixed.
Early the following morning I stole from
the house, and slowly and sorrowfully I
moved along toward the sequestered nook
where Willie and | would now meet for
the last time. Though he was not there
when | reached the place, l knew that he
had previously been, for my seat was new
covered with turf, and on it was placed a
small boquet Of the most delicate rosebuds.
tied with a tiny bit of white ribbon, Il have
them still, and the honey-suckle, which
before had been clambering up the tree,
was now supported by light frame work,
forming fairy like-arbor.
Willie had worked very hard, knew, to
arrange these, and at any other time [
wonld have been delighted with them. |
hoped he had not yet seen my father, but
as he approached, one look at his face was
enough. [ never saw any one so altered,
SO pale, so wan it almost frightened me
to look at him. Our hearts were too full
of sorrow for words, ard sitting down be-
side me, he drew my hand within his, and
with his head bowed down, seemed lost in
deep thought. With mighty effort he
- -f.si oo1s1.saaa; the wITdest sor-
row would have been far better. He en-
treated me not to grieve, and to listen to
his plans for the future. The small sum
of money left him by his father would suf-
fee to pay his expenses to Italy, and board
him for some time after arriving He was
going to be an Artist, (even then so young
he could sketch beautifully he would gain
a great name-wealth would be hs-and
he would return to claim me for his bride.
A proud noble heart beat beneath his
humble garb, and loved him the more for
it. He told me he had bEt short time
more to spend with me; he was to leave
that day. His mother would find home
with his Aunt, and very soon he would be
far 'o'er the deep blue sea- He took from
his pocket a littleIpackage, drew from it a
ring, and kneeling on the mossy banks be-
side me, as he placed it on my finger, said:
think of you love only you. fprovldence
permit, | will return at the end OF four
years then | will tell you the wish with
which | have placed it on your finger. II
, | do not then return, wear it still for my
sake, and never, pray you, never let it be
micnlacpd for anothern
| 81 shall always, always love you, dear
: Willie" exclaimed, through choking sob'
/, and scalding tears. He was rising to go
. he could not say "GooD BYE" but pres
a sing my hand to his lips, he gave one last
S long, fervent look and soon | lost sight 0
Y his youthful form in the distance.
S ] never saw him again. | went to school
t, / did not care to 90 since Willie was los
). to me. l met you, dear Maggie, and of tn
l three years which spent there you know
d My father died during the second year, an
i left me sole mistress of his fortune. Hay
r, ing completed my education, came bac
e to the old homestead.
One year passed tolerably well; for
e, thought the close of it would bring Will
| but three-times-four long years have passe
st and still he comes not. | am weary
a. watching for him on earth, but soon | wi
to wait hiscoming in the blessed mansions
} rest. Do not weep, darling. See,
o. not shed a tear. My heart has been stee
lg ed to sorrow, and l can weep no more.
n My story is done; but | have not y
ds finished. This ring which you see on n
Sc, finger, is just as Willie placed it there mai
lst years ago. Unclose its spring and y
of will find within it perfect miniature
ID; him, as he was then-a bright, curly -ht
= ded youth. know, Maggie, that you 3
. not happy in your once-loved home; Il
,m your woman's heart cannot brook insl
og. from your naughty step mother. / W
cal you after my death to make. this no,
de, your home. Not word, darling, |
I'VE seech you and in my will you will fl
ad my whole estate bequeathed to you. c
up more boon / crave, and by your love
of me grant IT. IF Willie Granton' return.
ION which [ doubt not he will, though | 81
ne, be far away in the spirit land-and a
to you to become his wife, promise me t
ne. YOU will love and cherish him for my sal
lay Margaret knew that her friend could
Ieet but for few days more an actor in L
two drama-that the least excitement VIC
Pile hasten her death-and thinking it prc
not Bile he would never return, she prom
and. - orant her wish. After that night E