Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1859-05-28
BRATTLEBORO, VT: MAY 2s, 1859.

P'iiO"ss, ntcueu IL Dut you were right
Agncs,-the ring was a true talisman. Itseem
ed to inc that its letters had changed color.
carried it to an old Eastern scholar. He de
cared that the letters could never have formed
the word Faith, that the word was some
black word, that meant death. left it witt
him, that he might study it. When | saw him
again. he declared he had lost and advertised it
You see that you can trust your talisman soon.
er than you can trust me-"
At this moment the outer door opened, and
presently Fanny came in, with one of her
friends. Miss Agnes looked bewildered, but
her visitor recovered his composure directly.
"Miss Fanny, believe; | have met you be-
fore. have just been bidding goodbye to
Miss Agnes, before leaving for Europe Can
be of service to you?"
Before we had time to think, he had said
something to each one of us, and had left the
house Fanny turned to speak to Miss Agnes,
but she had fallen to the ground before we
could reach her.
She was i'll, very i'll for long time. She had
the brain fever,-so the doctor said They let
me stay with her,-she liked to have me with
her. was glad to sit in the darkened room
all the long day. never was a "handy' child,
but learned to be useful to her. I waited on
all her wants. held her hand when she reach
ed it out as if to meet some kindly touch.
In the quiet of her room, had not heard the
great piece of newS,-of the terrible railroad
accidents that Mr. Carr, the Ernest who had
been to see Miss Agnes, was among those who
were suddenly killed,-the very day he left our
house! had not heard it; so was not able
to warn Fanny, when she came into the sick
room of Miss Agnes, the first day she was able
to talk. | could not warn Fanny that she must
snot speak of it. But she did. How could she
be SO thoughtess? Miss Agnes, it is true,
looked almost well, as she was lying on her
couch, soft color in her cheeks. But then
Fanny need not have told her anything so pain
full. Miss Agnes looked quite wild, and to me
as if to know whether it were true. | could
not say anything to her, but knelt by her,-and
she seemed almost calm--as she asked to knew
all that was known all the terrible particulars
that Fanny knew so we'll
She was worse after that. We thought she
would die, one night But she did not die
Either she was too weak or to strong to die of
broken heart. Perhaps she was not strong
enough to love so earnestly such one as Mr.
Carr, or else she had such strength as could
bear the trial that was given her to bear. She
lived, but life seemed very feeble in her for
long time.
One day she began to talk with me-
"lou would like to know, Jennie, the story
of that ring" she said.
told her was afraid TO have her talk about
1t, but she went ONT
at is an old heirloom, and all our family his
tory is fail Of stories of this ring. There are
so many tales connected with it, that every one
OF us has looked upon it with sort of super
stitlon, aud cherished it as a talisman connected
with our lives. 1t was always a test of con-
stancy, and the stories Of those occasions when
II has been quietly worn, undisturbed, that have
been forgotten. 1t has told many sad tale
in my own family. 1t came back, broken. to
my brother Arthur, and he died of broken
heart. My sister Evelyn gave it to her Young
cousin, to whom she engaged herself. But al
terwards, when she went to live with gay and
heartless aunt of mine, she broke her prcmise
to him for the sake of a richer match The
day that she was to be married, our cousin far
signet-ring."
"Oh, Miss Agnes - exclaimed.
And why should the letters change ." she
asked abruptly; and saw her eyes look out
dreamingly, as if at something did not see.-
The letter clothes the spirit; and the spirit
gives life to the form. A face grows lovely or
unlovely with the spirit that lies behind il.
cannot say it there be spirit in such things.
Yet what we have worn we give value to. 1t
has an expression in our eyes. Do we give il
all that expression or has it some life of its
own?"
She interrupted herself, and went on =
81 had known that Ernest was not true to me.
had known it by the words he wrote to me-
They did no, have the ring of pure silver there
was cinng to them. When Fanny read aloud
the loss of that ring, it spoke to suspicion
that was lying in the depth of my heart. and
reused it into life. Ny little Jennie, was very
sad then
You do not know how deeply loved Ernest
Carr. You do not know how might have
loved your brother George,-yes the noble, up
right George. He loved me, and treated me
most tenderly; he found this home for me. |
did not Danish him from the would have
stayed all these years in Calcutta, if it had not
been for me.-he said. You cannot understand
how 1t was that Ernest Carr. whom | had known
before, should have impressed me more You
do not know, yet, that we cannot command our
love,-that it does not always follow where our
admiration leads. loved Ernest for his very
faults. The fascination that made the world,
its prizes, its money, its fame so attractive to
him, won me as | saw them in him. 1t is ter
rible to think of my last meeting with him; but
his fate seems to me not so awful as the fate
towards which he was hurrypg,-the life which
never could have satisfied him."
She left off speaking, and dreamed on, her
eyes and thoughts far away. And l. too, dream
ed. fancied my brother Georye coming home,
and that he would meet with that ring some
how. l knew it must come back to her. And
it did and he came with it.