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

y could make beautiful. Ada loved him a!st
e do not think she suspected it herself. bu
o when found her preferring him to all hi
y other friends, and in her idle moment
n thoughtful and silent. rarely speaking q
b him, but Frightening up with great joy whe
r his name was mentioned, and so exquisitel
: happy in his presence, felt it was so. An
now who should yield to the other! Sh
v had youth and beauty on her side; whereve
: she went tn ere would be no lack of admi
I rers, others would love her, and she, wit
I. her confiding nature, stretched out its ten
| drills everywhere for something to cling to
could she not love another! Perhaps nev
er again in my life would any one come s.
, near to loving me, for knew by expert
ence had not the power of attracting new
Z friends. - s-- '--- ~ -szz.-
Il Either view of the case would cause IN,
much suffering. Could l enjoy my bis
with consciousness that had made he
,tpermanently unhappy! would not each day
Be a living torture! III gave him up my
suffering would have this alleviation-she
would be happy.
i decided. No act of mine should cloud
her sky. 1 do not think could have done
this at home; as it was, visit to my broth
er's gave me both time and opportunity.
undertook it as great duty, and tried not
to think OF my suffering. My brother felt
troubled at my pa,eness, 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.
On my return saw that Ada and Hugh
had not let the time pass by idly. Now my
presence was not so much sought after, ard
when l lett them alone they seemed satis-
fed with the reason gave. One thing
troubled me now, and that was Jennie's
marriage. She wrote for me to come and
spend at least two weeks with her, longer if
i could. Wha: should do!
only asked the question few times
One day in walking stepped on some lit
tie thing and slipped, though i. did not
seem to hurt me much at the time. In lit
| tie while Hound my ancle was sprained--
quite badly, the doctor said, and it would
be several weeks ere would be abe to
walk wrote to Jennie relating the acci-
dent, and begging her 10 accept Ada's ser.
vices, telling her it would be better, for l
suspected they loved each other. She sent
ne speedy answer. Had her cousin Hugh
proved traitorous to me, if SO, he and Ada
might 60, 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. a
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 a2d
sAsa's love was the most natural event in
the world. She sen. for them to come, and
Ada made her preparations with the same
joyful heart that she hal carried to Sarato-
ga.
Let me close the book of my life for those
few weeks. Hugh and Ada returned enga-
ged. 49,
Hugh soon told me he was to be my bro
.her; that was to live with them VIXEN
they had house of their own, and made
this the cause of his playfully affectionate
manner to me, while gradually fell into
sisterly way of treating him. In Ada, how
ever, there seemed change, sometimes
asked myself if she was perfectly satisfied
in her love, for her strange manner troubled
me. By degrees faint surmise crept into
my heart; but, at first, banisbed it as un-
worthy of Ada, and SO unjust to me.
One evening it came out. We were sit
ting on the sofa-Hugh in the middle, with
one arm partly around my neck, whispering
to me of pleasant surprise he had in store
for Ada. She had been leaning her head
on his shoulder; but presently she raised it,
and somewhat de6antly, resisted his at
tempts to restore it to its usual resting
place. Iielt sorry we were talking; and
when, a moment alter, she gathered up her
dress and swept out of the room so scorn-
fully, knew, then, W hat it was; but grief,
more than surprise, kept me quiet. For
some time 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 on the
bed, her face buried in her hands.
"Ada," said, with strange calmness,
"Ada, go down stairs; Hugh wants you."
She raised her head-.in all her life she
had never been angry at me before.
'You can 60 10 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 ove- the
ruin you have made, and think thai Ada,
with all her beauty, all her true love, was
no match ior you"
was the stronger, then, and said, slow
ly-
"Let me hear your accusation in different
words, Ada, il you have any to make"
"Any to make! Oh! no; you are inno-
cence itself. Hugh Wilton did love me
once, but now" and the naughty lip
curled scornfully.
"Hugh Wilton loves you now-you are
his promised wife; he wants you; go to him.
"And when do 60 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 Il
brother TO me; he can never be anything
more"
"But there is an old love between you,
and you are trying to get back. o! you can
not blind me-; was an idiot to love him."
"Tncre never was an old love between