The Kenosha telegraph and tribune. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1859-1860, 1859-07-14

OdJ HO WOIu III anger, NHdIleS. TO
ny sake, do not be angry with William
For thy sake %
eyes, may | not ask this?"
"Ida, what do l owe you, that for thy
'ake | should not hate him %
''Nothing; but oh, forgive me! I knew
rot you loved me SO dearly Younevel
old me till to night"
because | did not deem it necessary
o tell thee" he observed bitterly. 81
bought you understood the look of my
yes, the touch of my hand, the tone OF
ny voice To tell you that I love you
would have seemed to me like painting
he rainbow, or lending torches to the
light of the stars! But, alas, [ see ]
nave but mistaken! The love of this
world to secure itself must gable and
speak itself out, or the loudest goose will
De the victor"
"You are very bitter Charles
pardon me, but l feel bitterly,
Goo d-night Ida"
''Let us part friends"
''Friends! Eth? Friends! What
does that mean? Not enemies?"
" More than that, Charles Let us
part friends %
" Not enemies!' answered the young
man, az he coldly received in his owl
her soft hand, with which she warmly
claSped his. can never hate thee
When die, Ida, your image will be
found engraven upon my inmost heart
Good night. If never more speak tc
thee, do not imagine hate thee. But
| can never look again upon the form
that is possessed of my rival. Good
night"
He left the gate and walked rapidly
onward. She impulsively followed him
half dozen steps but seeing he paid
no attention to her pursuing feet, tho
he must have heard them upon the pave.
ment, she stopped, clasped her hands
together upon he bosom, sighed heavi.
ly, and said, " Oh that | had before
known hoao Charles loved me. Yet he
never told his love. He was so diffident
and distant, while William pressed his
suit with such fervor. Poor Charles.
| wish he could understand that ! love
him las a FRIEND though William is to
be my husband"
"Wi-po-will wi-po- will ~ cried, in
plaintive notes a whipporwill, in the
top of neighboring tree.
"Wbat q doleful cry. This bird s
note sounds ominously, and makes me
feel fear y' she said, as she returned
slowly to the gate. ''They say it sings
thus only when some evil is to happen
to the nearer. Shall go in or wait for
William" she soliloquized, as she lin.
gered by the gate, held half open in her
hand. He was to be here at nine
O. clock, and the bell for nine will soon
ring"
The young girl, with torn heart
for she loved both lovers (but William
most and tenderest, having also pledged
him her hand, heart, and troth) linger.
ed long after the nine o'clock bell had
rung, for William had promised her he
would come at nine. With every note
OF the bell she expected to hear blend
ed the sound of his tootstep. Half past
nine came, and her mother came out to
her and said, " Ida, You ought to be in
dear. Where is William?''
''Not come yet, mother. I wonder
what has detained him"
"Perhaps, some engagement. You
know he is but clerk, and hasn't his
time to himself, poor Young man, as Mr.
Redington has, who is rich. | must
confess, Ida, l am ulprised you should
have selected the poor one"
ole selected me mother"
''But you know that on the least en-.
couragement the richer would have ask.
ed you.'
81 did not encourage him because he
aoaS rich. | could not trust myself !
feared | might be thinking of his for
tunes; so let the one who offered first
have my hand"
"Weil William is good young man,
and will make you happy. But you
know my opinion. 1 would rather yon
would have married Mr.. Redington.
That fine house his mother lives in
would have been yours at her death,
with a carriage, and all that"
Don't talk of such things, mother.
They do not come into my thoughts.
I shall be perfectly happy with William.
And since | have seen the exhibition of
anger and feeling shown by Charles this
evening, | see he has fearful temper,
which might have made me wretched
as his wife,
"Well come in dear child. 1t is full
a quarter Of ten. Honest people ought
to be in bed by half an hour after bell
ringing"
81 Will come in soon dear, mamma.
/ think William will be here by ten.
| will just meet him at the gate here,
and say goodnight to him. He was to
bring me wedding ring"
"Well at ten you must come in. Tie
your handkerchief over your head, Ida
for fear there is a dew"
Ten was struck by the old clock in
the house, but Ida's lover had not come.
She waited till ten minutes past when,
slowly and wonderingly, she returned
to the house.
Gle has never failed me BEFORE" she
said ;"but perhaps something has de-
tanned him. 1t cannot be that, now that
| am engaged to him, he loves me less
and thinks he need not be so punctual to
his engagements as when he was not
sure Of me, and was trying to win my
consentp'
How sensitive, how jealous, how ex-
acting is true love. .s
Ida entered the house, and by and
by retired, but not till hope OF seeing
William for that night had expired.
In the morning she dreamed DEAN.
She believed that she was walking arm
in-arm with William by the side of the
river, when a mermaid rose before them
out of the water; and said; in harsh
voice, Come i have waited for you
You must go with me! My home in the
Il I