Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1858-06-24

that quivered before my half closed eyes and
| there there beyond, through narrow vista,
an opening, as it were, into heaven, in the
guise of little bit Of the pastors garden,
blazing in sunshine and flowers On this nv
eyes would fix till the angel should come to
! give it holier light. Sometimes / waited
through the long hours in vain sometimes l
saw her pass and repass, coming and going
like alternate sun and shadow as the place
/ seemed frightened or darkened with her pres
ence and departure Then, how my heart did
beat how | watched how | listened did
she guess | was there did she wish to come?
was it timidity or Indifference that prevent
ed her turning her steps this way Useless
She would not come to-day and, cross and
sick at heart, left the wood, aud wandered
! homeward to mine iun,--the bare, hot cham
bers of which, with the old fumes Of bad stale
tobacco were little calculated to soothe the
nerves that had been stung and fretted and
rutfied in the green, cool, perfumed chestnut
wood
Next day all would be joy and hope again
Back once more to the sylvan temple, where
hoped to meet the shy goddess An hour,
wo,-wOuld pass, and then she foated to
and fro across that bit of sunshine, gathering
a Hover here, tying one up there watering
! trimming, dipping further on,-wondering, as
she has since told me, and as | little guessed
! then, if | were there in the wood watching
her. Presently, with basket on her arm
she would turn iuto the shady walk nearer
and nearer came her footstep, fuller and fuller
throbbed my heart then, with hand on the
wicket she would pause had she changed
her mind would she go back and at that
thought my soul so yearned for her. that it
seemed the Influence must act to draw her to-
wards me ard sometimes | almost thought
it did so, as opening the gate, she stepped in
to the wool, and slowly, with downcast eyes,
roved to and fro, in search, as | believed of
the yellow mushrooms that grow in the chest
nut woods in France
\ few moments more, and We we're togeth-
er, she still pursuing her search, though many
mushroom was passed, many another trod-
den on |, pacing by her side, speaking low,
and at intervals, while she sometimes answer
cd without looking up, sometimes gave me
glance of those miraculous eyes in lieu of other
answer till at last youth and love, and soIi-
tude encouraging, the hand that at first dare
not touch hers, wound round her waist, the
lips that trembled to pronounce her name,
pressed hers unf0rbidden
Aud now, shall tell the truth "a truth
that many and many time since has not on
ly stung me with remOrSe, but with the thought,
tnat perhaps - Well, well, that may or
may not have been. But to my confession -
Young as | was Suzanne was not the first
woman | fanced l had loved and though
the feeling had for her was widely different
from that with which | had regarded others,
still it was then pure, and deep, and fervent
- h,.V-a hoo 4,,s.r ,r,,.l,
loved her, much as | desired to obtain her
love, had no thought Of iHdissoIubly uniting
my destiny to hers | had no idea Of marriage
conteuted myself with letting things run
their course, whatever they might tend with
taking no thought and making no engagement
for the future.
At last our meetings in the chataignerae
became things OF daily occurrence and We
needed no subterfuges of sketch book and
mushroom baskets to color them Sweet, pure,
darling Suzanne Who, in her position, at
her age, could have withstOod the dangers Of
the situation as she did She loved me with
all the depth and warmth Of 4 profound and
passionate nature yet in the midst of her
abandon, there was purity, a startling, in
stuctive shvneSs "a turning Of the flank Of
danger, as it were while appearing unconsciouS
of its vicinty--that at once captiyated and re-
PEELED me. And days drew on to weeks, and
still our relative positions remained unaltrrcd.
One day we were in the chataigneraie to
gether, strong side by side, her hand in mine,
when the unusual sound of footsteps rustlmg
mid the last years leaves, startled rs. We
TUNED round, and at little distance behcld
her father.
He was man still in the prime of life
But indifferent health, and II ceaSeless actiV-
tv in the arduous duties of his calling, gave
to his spare figure and fine face a worn, and
prcmaturelv aged look | shall never forget
him, as after a moments pause he advanced
and confronted u.s. the veins in his bare tenn
pies swollen and throbbing with the emotion
he sought to control his face pale and rigid,
and his lips compressed.
There was q dead silence for some seconds
| Then his kindling eyes flashed on his daugh-
ter, and pointing to the house, he said in a
! low, stern voice Go in, Snzanne." She
went without word.
"And thus, young man" he said, when she
was out of hearing, thus, for the gratifica-
tion of passing fancy, to kill the time you
know not how to dispose of, you blot an hon
| est and hitherto stainless name. You break
| fathers heart you turn from her God-you
| destroy body and soul-a mere child, mother
less and unprotected. | will not tell you what
! Suzanne has been to me how | have reared
her, worked, hoped, prayed for her, loved and
/ trusted her All these things are doubtless
tame, and commonplace, and contemplate to
you But if You had no fear of God or con-
, Sideration for man before your eyes, could you
not have had little feeling, q little pity, an
atom of respect for father and daughter,
situated as you know us to be? Knowing,
moreover, that it is not in the heart or in the
| hand of the minister of God to avenge the
wrong and shame done him, by the means
other dishonored fathers adopt 2"