St. Charles City Republican intelligencer. [volume] (St. Charles City [Charles City], Iowa) 1857-1861, 1859-09-08
O11' flOD COlN IOWA. THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 8 1889

= holding her brothers hand, and callin
upon me to rejoice with her.
~ Then she was suddenly gone, an
V Y in whirl of thought and feeling,
=, was listening to words which max
me happy yet-ycs, make me cry wit
happiness yet.
1t was no formal proposal, but a
unprecedented, may say an acc
dental, betrayal of his feeling towar,
me. | had suspected his love for m,
still less than mine for him, and III,
incrcdnity cf my too happy heart lac
scarcely time to melt into transport
when | was hastily summoned hom,
to the city, by a messenger sent from
my father, who was i'll. left tina,
evening, just one hour after Albcrt's
arrival, and so my weeks pleasure
was cut short.
My father was quite well the next
day, but he seemed to need my pres,
encc, for he had no household supcrin.
tendcnt when was away, and no 9TH
cr dear woman to pay him the little at
tentions he cravcd My mother was
dead, and had no sister. nor had he.
\ week after my return, we went
to fruit supper, given by one of his
friends ; and as it was a Sultry night,
we sat in a halt-lightcd room listening
to some very fine music, both instru-
mental and vocal. | was close beside
my father, and Albert very near us
both A lady sang Montrose's love
song, and when she came to the words,
~ He either fears his fate too much
Or his deserts are small
Who fears to put it to the touch,
And win or lose his all
Albert in not a little excitement
looked toward me. My father saw
him, and knew all. was sure he did
by the closing of his lips in his most
determined aud thoughtful manner. |
knew he liked Alhcrt-but then ia
theirs are So prudential about the "abil
ity to support a wife," that | trcm-
blcd. No sooner had the singer paused
than my father said,
Delightful old song, and delight
fully sung. but | don't like the moral
a young man should fear to put his
fate to the touch, especially when he
is not i'll position to meet any fate.
Suppose now that the lover were q
young man of slender mcanS-if he
were sure of refusal he might put
the question as much as he pleased.
and no harm done, But should the la
dy accept, and he be in no position to
maintain her, | think he had been
wiser to fear touching off his fate
quite so soon. Such rashncss would
condemn any man with me"
Oh, dear brother !" said my aunt,
laughing. How you are twisting
the song to suit Lois's lovers :" She
had no idea that one of them was
present, having never known that we
were even acquainted.
"Ycs,' my father answered, in a
careless way, | want chances to cx-
press that opinion, and so never lose
one"
Albert felt that that opinion was
lcvclcd at him, as saw by his pallor
He left my side, for the first time that
evening, and did not come back. |
skunk into my own heart, and had no
more happiness that night
For six months matters remained
quiet. We never met except casually,
and rarely, but every time we did so,
saw and felt how Albert was striv-
ing for patience, how he was working
himself almost to death for me, and
how kecnly he searched my face to
know whether were forgetting him.
He never spoke one word to me of his
hopes or feelings.
One morning my fathers old friend,
Mr.. Williams, called to see him and
his daughter, who accompanied him,
remained in the parlor with me, while
our parents were closcted in the Office.
She was as much coniided in by her
father as | was by mine, and often
acted as his private secretary.
81 have great news to tell you,"
she began. You know Albert Ed
wards, of our firm, don't you? He is
in the Co. this year"
eyes, do," | stammcrcd.
"Wcll, he has forged our name, and
was prevented by mere accident
from getting twenty thousand dollars
from bank, which was placed there on
deposit only day before yesterday.
They say he has lately expressed al
most frantic wishes to be wealthy, so
| suppose he lost all sense of honor in
this desire Father has come to con-
suit your father about whether, in CON
sideration of his former correct and
high-minded conduct, this sudden lapse
should not be called temporary insani-
ty and lenieutly dealt with. Of course
this matter is not to be spoken Of"
Then she talked on other topics, and
as the room was dim, her careless eyes
did not see what she had done to me-
My father saw the effects of the
blow l received, when an hour later
he came to me after parting from our
friends at the front door. He saw it
plainly, though had shed no tear.
He came and kissed me with quiver-
ing lips, saying, She told you cruelty,
my child. | dare say, and meant to
have done it gently. But know that
the grief with you is rather in the
thing told, than the way of telling it.
| could not save you that pain"
Father, he cannot be guilty"
My child he is most undoubtedly
guilty. have heard every particular,
and | am sure he is culpable. All,
daughter, wish | could hold differ
ent opinion, for blame myself not a
little for this young mans fall. l
placed temptation to evil in his way
when | intimated to him that he must
be well off, or not ask for you. must
stand his friend now, and | will.'
"By trusting him, father, and being
sure that he will prove his innocence"
"My dear Lois, this young man has
been weighed in the balance and found
wanting. He is unworthy. You must
: see him no more. You must close