Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1858-05-13

tuu souc, WHO fOl Weeks udu TAXED
nothing but Saratoga or Newport, said, rt
tgretfully, 81 shall not half enjoy myse
without you, Ada" and the tears, kisse
and afectionate twining of arms Shove
how dearly she had been loved.
] had no part nor lot in the matter. Tn
girls had been kind en-, ugh to me, but m
baby-lookirg face, surrounded by rugs, to-
short to be called curls, gave me such
"little girl look" that most Of them though
me younger than Ada, and hardly thei
equal. There wss one parting for me
however; the only love l beld beside m,
sisters vas that day to have the seal O
parting placed upon it.
Marion, Jennie and Grace Wilde ha,
been our schoolmates from our first enter
ing The institute. Marion had graduate,
the year previous, and now Louise an,
Grace had finished their school life. Will
Jennie had formed strong, but rather
singular attachment. She was tall, ele
gantly formed, with a face not regular !,
beautiful. but full of power and winning
sweetness, and she singled me from tina,
lsrge group of girls to become her friend
At first was very reserved; but when
found she could read my heart and tell me
my own thoughts and desires, 1 yielded te
her stronger will, and gave her that parl
of my heart which seemed useless to Ada,
in that she did not understand it.
After the partings were said, the last
kisses given. Ada and l walked thought.
fully homewaid, too much engaged with
our thoughts to desire conversation. At
home we found visitor, Aunt Wheedun, a
sister Of our fathers, a wealthy widow lady
whose extreme regard for fashion and lee
lures on my mothers want OF taste, and
poor way Of managing, made the latter
very nervous and uncomfortable. "You
will never marry off your girls in the
world" was her favorite exclamation; but
think mother believed there were many
more duties in life than marry ing off her
daughters.
Aunt Wheedon had not seen Ada for
two years, and was, think, a little sur
prised at her beauty; perhaps, also, her
winning manner contributed no little to
aunt's partialty. After day or two she
Ada should accompany her to
Saratoga, and mother consented. Ada was
in perfect fever of delight, which render-
ed her more beautiful than ever, and Aunt
Wheedon herself was reused from her hab-
itual cslmness, and took an active part in
the preparations.
1t was new thing for us to 60 out shop
ping for silks, tissues, laces and flowers,
and to see the nonchalanGe with which
Aunt Wheedon pulled them about and
cheapened them un ii they suited her.
told Ada she had fnery enough to last her
ten years, at which she laughed s,gaay. L.
did me good to see her SO entirely happy,
and softened the pang her absence was
likely to bring.
The evening before her departure she
tried her dresses and flowers, for Aunt
Whee6on wanted to see the effect by gas
light. How bewilderingly beautiful she
looked in each; sonnet lines grand and state
ly, then simple and tasteful, until Aunt
Wheedon declared herself perfectly salts.
fed with both Ada and the dresses. After
the trunks were packed we went to our
room, and by a similar thought, perhaps,
seated ourselves by the same window, in
the moonlight. After long silence she
said, .....t .......
May, life is changing with me; | am a
child no longer, tut woman, with a wo-
mans heart and desires; and though want
to see the world and drink of its cup of en-
joyment, a strange fear rises up--a half
hope"
"TEat you will meet some one to under
stand these longings," ! said, then added,
slowly: "You will love some day, and
marry"
.sPerhaps so;" and the hand that held
mine trembled. "Oh, May" and she bent
her head down, "will ever meet any one
to love me as want to be loved, and who
will let me love him to the extent of my
heart. It viii be no light love, May"
looked in her beautiful eyes and felt
that she would. After a little while she
went on in gayer tone.
"How strange it will be, May, when you
and are both married, and have homes of
our own"
Her words stirred up something new
within me. She was So sweet and lovely
that many would consider her heart prize
to be earnestly sought after; but /, plain
and retiring, who would ever strive for my
love! vet felt could love as ferventIy as
Ada, and make any of the great sacrifices
that sometimes fall to woman's lot, yet /
could feel bow it would be-others would
.hink my heart too slight think to fathom,
and filled with new sense Of lone illness, l
.wined my arms around her neck, saying,
"No, Ada, there will never be any one
o love me when you are gone-i shall be
Ill alone!'
"You do yourself great injustice in think
ng SO, little May. know some day shall
vet you happy wife,"
told her the presentiment l bad of my
own lonely life, in words whose strange
thrilled even my own heart;
and, pressing me to her bosom, said, ten
1erly,
"If it should be SO, my darling, my home
shall be yours, and you shall be little pet
sister to the enc | marry. Together we
will make your way all sunshine, until you
long for no sther love-
l could not explain why the promise
should comfort me SO greatly; but it seem
ed golden bridge laid over the stream of
life SO that needed not to walk in dark
ness; and as we set there, wesving bright
plans for the future, again and again she
kissed my forehead, pausing to say,