Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-05-15
ADA A ND i;
OR
HI U H wILTONss LOVE.
CONCLUDED

you VIII ENJOY III So" Nay; so Inucu teHueI-
ness was there in his every word that a wild,
delrious fancy entered my heart-even that
he loved me- And if it was true bow blest
| life might be TO me. No more solitude. no
| more weary hours and painful striviDgs, no
fearful looking into the future. This could
be mine-I felt it,
| AIasr each day convinced me that mine was
not the only life Hugh Wilton's love could
make beautiful Ada loved him also; do
not think she suspected ii herself but found
her preferring him TO all her other friends,
and in her idle moments thoughtful and silent,
| rarely speaking of him, but Frightening up as
! with great joy when his name was mentioned,
and so exquisitely happy in his presence,
| felt it was so. And now who should yield TO
the other. She had youth and beauty on
her side; wherever she went there would be
| no lack of admirers others would love her.
| and she, with her confding nature, stretched
| out its tendrils everywhere for something to
cling to, could she not love another? Perhaps
| never again in my life would any one come
so near TO loving me- for | knew by expe-
rience had not the power of attracting new
| friends.
Either view of the case would cause me
much suffering. Could / enjoy my bliss with
| consciousness that | had made her perman-
emily unhappy? would not each day be a liv-
| ing torture? 1t | gave him up, my sufferings
would have this alienation she would be
happy.
| / decided. No act of mine should cloud
her sky. l do not think | could have done
this at home; as it was, visit to my brothers
| gave me both time and opportunity. l under
| took it as great duty, and tried not to think
of my suffering. My brother felt troubled at
my paleness, and said Ada's very late hours
and dissipation were killing me; but said it
was only the cold weather; when summer
came should be well enough.
4 n A Il
had not let the time pass by idly. Now my
presence was not so much sought after, and
| when | left them alone they seemed satisfied
with the reason | gave. One thing troubled
me now, and that was Jennies marriage. She
wrote for me to come and spend at least two
weeks with her, longer if l could. What
| should do?
only asked the question few times. One
| day in walking | stepped some little thing
and slipped, though it did not seem to hurt
me much at the time. In a little while l
| found my anclc was sprained-quite badly,
the doctor said. and it would be several weeks
| ere would be able TO walk. l wrote to Jen-
ME relating the accident, and begging her to
| accept Ada's services, telling her it would be
better for l suspected they loved each other.
| She sent me a speedy answer Had her cousin
| Hugh proved traitorOus to me- if so, he and
| Ada might go, where, she cared not, only no
| one should ever treat her little May badly,
truly i must tell her if Hugh Wilton ever
| asked my love or not.
felt thankful that | could say truly he had
not. More than ever ] wanted all to think
highly of him, for | felt he was noble and
good. | think satisfied Jennie that we had
not loved each other, while he and Ada's love
was the most natural event in the world. She
sent for them 10 come, and Ada made her
preparations with the same joyful heart that
she had carried to Saratoga.
Let me chose the book of my life for those
few weeks. Hugh and Ada returned en-
gagged.
Hugh soon told me he was to be my brother,
that | was to live with them when they had
house of their own, and made this the cause of
his payfully affectiOnate manner to me. while
| gsadually fell into sisteTly way of treating
him. In Ada, however, there seemed a
change, some times / asked myself if she was
perfectly satisfied in her love, for her strange
manner troubled me. By degrees faint sur
mise crept into my heart; but at first ban
ished ii as unworthy of Ada, and to unjust to
me.
One evening it came out We were sitting
on the sofa-Hugh in the middle, with one
arm partly around my neck, whispering to me
of pleasant little surprise he had in store for
Ada. She had been leaning her head on his
shoulder; but presently she raised it and
somewhat defiantly resisted his attempts to
sorry we were talking; and when, a moment
after, she gathered up her dress and swept
out of the room so scornfully, knew, then,
what it was; but grief, more than surprise,
kept me quiet. For sometime he continued
his conversation, then asked, suddenly where
Ada had gone. felt glad of an excuse to
leave him, so went in search of her. | stood
at the door of our room, trembling, fearing
almost to enter, and when did, there lay Ada
IN thq he'd bprf apa i'm hpr
''Ada," | said, with "A strange calmness,
"Ada, go down stairs; Hugh wants you
She raised her head-in all her life she had
never been angry with me before
You can go To Hugh, she began in quick.
excited tones, you, with your soft, winning,
treacherous ways; and when you have done
your work, when you have won from me the
only blessing my life holds, the love | would
die for; you may laugh over the ruin you
have made, and think that Ada, with all her
beauty, all her true love, was no match for
you"
was the stronger, then, and said slowly:
"Let me hear your accusation in different
words, Ada, if you have any to make"
"Any to make o! no; you are innocence
itself. Hugh Wilton did love me once, but
now-'and the naughty lip curled scorn-
fully.
"Hugh Wilton loves you now-you are his
promised wife; he wants you; go TO him."
'And when do you will come and try to
make him love you"
Hush, Ada!'' | said; 'God knows have
never tried to make him love me. He is
IA brother to me; lie can never be anything
more.
But there was an old love between you,
and you are trying to get it back. O, you
cannot blind me; | was an idiot to love him."
"TheI n .ver WAS an old love between US"
| said, somewhat quickly; ''if he had wanted
to marry me he certainly would not have
asked you to become his wife before he knew
whether loved him or mott
She came and took both of my hands,
looking steadily into my eyes, and said:
May, did Hugh never tell You that he
loved you? Did you never have dream that
one day you might become his wife?'
God gave me strength to stand there,
calmly. and bear her cruel questioning-w
| had dreamed was buried down in my heart
so | answered:
.'No, Ada; Hugh never asked me to be any
thing but sister,
She looked curiously Mt me for while,
then turned and weut down without word.
Another dream oflife was gone-alasl what
was left now? Only solitude-tireary lonel-
ness. Why should | be shut off from the
beautiful things of life, having only its tolls
and weary burdens! And Ada, for whose
dear sake had taken up the heaviest cross
of life. even she had ceased TO love mel | did
not weep; l only sat there in silence, feeling,
for the first time in my life, il was not SO
hard 10 die young. Then Ada came up
again. Her eyes were full CT tears; aud
putting her arms around me, AID said implor
ingly:
.-Come down, May; Hugh wants you.r
.'No," said. ''let 1t all go now, Ada; you
are To be married soon, and then will go and
live with Arthur. You aud Hugh will be so
haDny-flrg..t all about me-
'.Ol May, May!' and the beautiful face,
wet with tears, was laid against my cheek, II
am so sorry for what | said, and he would