Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??, 1859-08-06
silence oppressed him; and when at length

ard, and offered him her hand as usual. The
he saw, in the first place, that she was paler
than formerly, and, in the second, that
.slight color rose into her face under his search
ing gaze, he was sufficiently reassured to ad-
dress her.
"Martha,'' he said, "did my letter sur
prise your Tell me only that it was too abb
rupt-that it startled and hurried you. Was
it not sor'
"Nay, Richard"
"Then you knew, even before dared to
speak, that loved you with all the guileless-
ness of my infancy, all the fire Of my youth.
and all the deep, earnest, concentrated pas
sion of my manhood. Do you know of the
reply my letter received'"
" Yea, Richard"
"And you sanctioned it 2"
"In meaning" but here her voice slightly
faltered "if the words were unkind, be thou
assured that they came neither from my pen
nor my heart"
"Then was deceived in supposing-for
did indulge the dream-that my devotion had
awakened an interest in your bosom That
interest belongs to anotherl' 70
"Inever had dearer friendship than thine"
said Martha and raising her eyes to his. she
added, after a pause, in the clear, distinct,
silvery tone, which was the character of her
voice, "and never shalt"
"Yet you reject and spurn mel This is
II aonpnt he tbat Tho diffapauca in
our worldly circumstances weighs with you
know you better, Martha. Neither can you
suppose that on my part there is the slightest
tinge Of mercenary feeling, for you know me
better. Win you not give me at least hope
There are fortunes to make in the world that
would satisfy even your father; we are both
young and to win you, my precious love,
would grudgc neither time, nor sweat, nor
bloodr'
Richard" said the Quaker girl, growing
still more pale, "no more ef this, in mercy
to himself-and me. Thou mayest agitate
and unnerve, but never change my purpose"
"What is your purposef'
"To honor my father and my mother.n
"That you may enjoy long life in the
land 70 said Richard with bitter smile.
"That may honor through them my
heavenly Father, who is above all. Farewell,
my early friend return into the world,
where thou wilt forget Martha, and may the
All-wise direct thy coursel' ~ She extended
her hand to him as she spoke. and he grasped
it like man in dream. The reply he had
demanded was distinct enough in her words,
but thousand times more so in her look,
manner, tone. He felt that expostulation
was vain, and would be unmanly; and as she
walked away, with her noiseless and measur-
ed step, and her hands folded before her, he
felt indignation struggling with admiring and
despairing love. The figure paused for an n-
stant at the door; but the next moment Mar
tina disappeared without turning her head.
Richard never knew, neither can l tell,
whether any one watched the stage-coach that
day from the upper window. Not even
prying servant could whisper anything of
Martha, or guess at the nature of the inter
view that had taken place. She was pale, it
is trne, but so had she been for some time.-
Her health, 1t appeared, was not good her
appetite was gone her limbs feeble. But
this would go off, for her manner was as us
ual. She was assiduous in the discharge of
her duties, kind to every one, loving and re-
verential to her parents. Still she was not
we'll, and her father at length grew alarmed.
They took her from watering-place to water
ing-place; they amused her with strange
sights they tried every day to give some
new direction to her thoughts. Martha was
grateful. She repaid their cares with smiles,
talked to them cheerfully, and did all she
could to seem and to be happy. But still she
was not well and when many months had
passed away, the now terrified parents, after
trying everything that science and affection
lcould suggest for the restoration of their only
child, consulted once more. The nature of
the step they ultimately determined upon
may be gathered from the following communi-
cation received in reply to letter from Mr..
Hargrave:-
"Respected Friend-The inquiry thou di-
rectedst has been easy. | am connected in
business with one (not of our Society to
whom the young man is well known, and by
whom he is much esteemed. Richard Temple
is wise beyond his years. He is Of quiet
and retired habits in his private life, and ia
an energetic and persevering man of business.
| and will, have no doubt, get on in the world,
That this is the opinion of my friend is clear,
for know that he would willingly give him
his daughter to wifc, who will bring her hus-
band good dowry, as well as oomely per-