The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1859-07-22

leaving her so long, (how long it seemed
to me) while every word, look, and smile,
seemed doubly dear to me, because knew
the precarious tenure By which | held my
right to them She busted herself, too
while was gone out, with our Joint bag
gage, and rummaged all over her trunk to
find book which l had expressed de
sire to see-she mended my gloves, sewed
the broken band of my travelling cap, and
found my cigar case whenever lost it.
which was twenty times a day; while she
scolded me for my carelessness, which she
declared almost equaled her own. Long
ago she had given over to my keeping, her
elegant little porte moniac, ''with all her
money in it, which she was sure she should
lose, as she never could keep anything"
and as she had ordered me to take out
what was wanted for her travelling expen-
ses, I opened it with trembling hands,
when I was alone, and examined its con.
tents. There were, besides all the bank
bills, with which she had probably been
furnished for the journey, and which with
pious care, she had folded up into the very
smallest possible compass, as much gold
as the pretty toy could carry, tinny pearl
ring, too small to fit any fingers but hers
which I am afraid [ kissed--a card
with her name on it, and a memorandum
| in a pretty hand, "No. Olive Street st.
Louis" which l rightly conjectured, was
the residence of the Cousin Jennie whose
husband l was; very fortunate discovery
for me. Indeed, so far, [ had not found,
the way of the transgressor is hard, in ex-
ternal circumstances at least, and when
with her, | forgot everything except her
grace and beauty, and my firm resolution
to be to her no more or less than her cous-
in should be; but out of her charmed
presence my conscience made me misera-
ble
am afraid l must sometimes have be-
trayed the conflicts of feeling l had by my
manner but when was reserved, and GER
emonious with her, she always resented it,
and begged me SO bewitchingly not to
treat her 50, and to call her by her sweet
name, "Florence," that had dreaded as
much as l longed to do it, | could not
have refused her. But the consciousness
that | was not what she thought me, but
an impostor, of whom, after our connec-
ton had ceased, and she had discovered
the deception practiced upon her, she could
not think or remember nothing that would
not cause her unmerited soifreproach and
modification, all innocent and trusting as
she was, this reflection, more than any
other, confess and the knowledge of the
estimation in which she would forever hold
me, after my imposition was discovered,
agonized me, and | would have given all |
possessed to own it to her, and leave her
sight at once, tough the thought of never
seeing her was dreadful. But that could
not be.
At last we reached st. LOUIS Do say
" at last." When the sight of those spires
and gables warned me that my brief term
ofhappiness was over, and that the remorse-
ful reflections | had been starving off so
long were now to commence in earnest,
the thought of the coming banishment
from Florence was dreadful to me, and the
time seemed to fly on lightning wings as
it drew nearer. She was all gayety, and
astonished at my sadness and absence Of
mind when SO near home and Jennie, and
when we entered the carriage that was to
convey us to our destination, | had half
mind to take cowardly fight, rather than
encounter the scorn and disappointment
of those blue eyes but mustered courage
and followed her in giving the address
found i'll the porte moniac, which tortu-
nately was the right one, to the driver.
almost home said she," turning her
bright face to me-we were rafting up
the street and my time was short, how
can you be SO cool and quet?'
because, Miss Florence" [ answered,
"the time has come, in which must con
fess to you that | nave no more right in
the home to which we are fastening, than
to the name by which you address me, and
that my only claim to either, is that Of an
impostor and deceiver"
She turned her lovely face, wondering
and puzzled, towards me.
Thank Heaven l did not yet read fear
and aversion in it..
"No right no claim !" she repeated
"what can you mean! Z"
/ told her, frankly and fully, the whole
truth, nearly as | have set it down here,
denying nothing and concealing nothing,
not even the useless secret of my love for
her. When the brief recital was ended,
we both remained silent, but although she
had hidden her face, could see that she
trembled violently with shame and repul-
sion. The sight of her distress was agony
to ME, and | tried to say few last words
of apology
"You cannot blame or hate me, Miss
Dundard, more than can blame and hate
myself | said, for the distress have
so unwillingly caused you. Heaven knows
that if accepted the charge of so much
innocence and beauty too lightly, I have
heavily atoned since, in having occasioned
this suffering to you, and my punishment
is greater than | can bear.
The coach stopped as spoke, size turn
ed towards me eagerly, her face bearing
traces of tears, and said in low voice.
"Do not misunderstood me, if was SC
silent.
The coachman threw open the door, and
stood waiting. | was obliged to descend
and assist her out. | hardly did dare tC
touch that little hand, though it was fol
the last time; but I watched her graceful
figure with sad distress. She was already
II Il -trFx