Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1859-04-07

. udse- nch hsAS vi my oini-iooh uP ihto h'
r face-tell me all her little adventures alone
j and chide me for leaving her SO long, (hoV
: long it seemed to ME,) while every word
look, and smile seemed doubly dear to me
because knew the precarious tenure b,
which held my right to them. She busie,
herself, too, while | was gone out, with ou
) joint baggage, and rummaged all over he
trunks to fad a book which had expresse,
: a desire 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 day, while shi
scolded me for the carelessness, which sh'
declared almost equaled her own. Long ag,
she had given over to my keeping, he
elegant little portemonnaie, with all he
money in it, which she was sure she should
] lose, as she could not keep anything and al
: she had ordered. me TO take ont what wa.
wanted for her travelling expenses, Iopenet
1t with ling hands, when was alone
j and examined its contents. There were
besides all the bank bills with which she
had probably been furnished for the journey
oHu w ulNAJ WIN PAouo \oAGt SAC IOtuCe
up into the very smallest possible compass
as much gold as the pretty toy could carry
tiny pearl ring, TOO small to fit any finger
but hers-which ! am afraid | kissed
card with her name on it, and.a memoran-
DUN in pretty hand, No. - Olive Street
St. LOUIS which, as rightly cOnjectured
was the residence of the Cousin Jennie
whose husband was--a very fortunate dis
corery for me- Indeed, SO far, had not
found the way of the transgressor hard, in
external circumstances at least, and when
with her, ! forgot every thing except her
grace and beauty, and my firm resolution to
| be to her no more or less than her cousin
should be; but out OF that charmed presence
my conscience made me miserable.
am afraid must sometimes have be-
| .rayed the conflicts of feeling had, by my
manner; but when was reserved and cere-
monious with her, she al@ays resented it.
and begged me so bewitchingly not to treat
her so. and to call her by her sweet mama.
| Florence. that had dreaded as much as
lunged 10 10 it, could lot have refused her.
Bat the consciousness that was not y hat
she thought ne, but an impostor, of whom
after our connection had ceased, and she
had discovered the deception practiced upon
her, she coulG hink or remember nothing
that would not cause her unmerited- self
reproach and notification. All innocent
and trusting as she was, this reflection,
mere than any other, | confess, and the
kuowl; dge OF the estimation in which she
would forever hold me, after nay imposition
was discovered. agonzed me, and ! would
have given all possessed to own it TO her,
and leave her sight at once, though the
thought of never seeing her more was dread
ful. But that could not be.
At last we rea ched st. Louis. Do say
al last!' When the sight of those spires
and gables warned me that my brief dream
of happiness was over, and that the remorse-
full reflections had been siaving off so long
were now 10 commence in earnest, the
thought of the coming banishment from
Florence was dread .ul to me, and the time
seemed to fly on lightning wings as it drew
nearer. Sic was all gayety, and aStGnish-
ed at my sadness and absence Of mind when
SO near home and Jennie, and when we
entered the carriage tina: was to convey US
10 our destination, | had half mind to take
a cowartiy Fight, rather than encounter the
Scorn and disappointment OF those blue
eyes; but mustered courage, and follow
ing her in, giving the address found in the
purtemonnae. which fortunately was the
right one. to the driver.
Almost home.' said she. turning her bright
tace towards Ele-we were rattling up the
street, and my time was short--how can
you bs 50 cool and quie:p
Because, Miss Flurence,' answered, the
time has come in which | must confess to
you that have no more right in the home
TO W icb we are fastening, than to the
name by which you address NE, and that my
only claim to either, is that OF an imposter
and deceirar,'
She turned her lovely face, wondering
and puzziod, towards me.
Thank Heaven did not get read fear end
aversion in it.
No right. no claim.' she repeated; 'what
can you meant
told her, frankly and fully, the whole
truth, nearly as have set it down here,
denying nothing, and concealirg nothing,
not even the useless secret of my love for
her. When the brief recital was ended
we both remained silent, but although she
hid hiGden her face, could see that she
trembied violently with shame ard repui-
sion. The sight of her distress was agony
to me, and tried to say few las: words OF
Hloogy-
You cannot blame or ha.e me. Miss
DuEdarG, more than blame and hate my
seit,' said, 'for the distress have so un
willingly caused you. Heaven knows that
if | accepted the charge of so much limo
cence and beauty too lightly, have heavily
a,oned since, in having occasioned this sut-
fering to you, and my own punishment is
greater than can bear
rhe coach stopped as | spoke, she turn
ed towards me eagerly, her face bearing
traces OF tears, and said, in low voice.
DO not misunderstand me, If was So
SILENT
The coachman threw open .he door. and
stood waiting. was obliged to descend,
and to assist her out. hardly dared TO
touch that little hand. though it WIS for the
last lime, but watched her graceful figure
with sad distress. She was already recog-
nized, for the door of the handsome house
before which we stopped was thrown open,
and pretty woman, followed by a fine
looking, black-vhiskered gentleman, rushed
down the steps. There were loud exclama-