The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1860-05-19

take his place. that will do much. And then.
yese = = e saa e e12 ~ ee 49, ! Sc s
i,ys; H Is1 Is, - ss m r :. 4 that
"But Il could gss work near, you need mo-.
,s:ye . him. NM. M.rgsre' ws could marry and
INC, stephen. We am too young 70 sst.sr
Alone We may struggle, and II we fall we fail
alone, and drag down no others; bus were We
married, and your employment 80 unGes.a -
cAres would come on us more quickly tnan 49,
cesid meet them. Believe me- We are Os''
sinsle.'' IS $50
There was NO selhshness about the youne
fhllow and yet man-like he COMO nst NJ
the answer, "Marsaredt :. ~ SSu me- NV younx
life =" he stopped abrupuy S..,,n.,,
| ~ should be no good wife to you, stephen.
II failed az a daushtsrj SO 90 not press snrs me
more dear STEPHEN the ~cnt.nr tears came At
-" Then stephen inwardly called himself many
friehtful names, of which humanity wretch
and brute were the least severe; but he only
said audibiy:
II know It, Margaret-forgtve me-" and the
words were hardly out Of his mouth. before he
was forgiven, 1 suppose, Tor the hand was
again placed confidently in his. He ntlnued,
THE worst Ia yet to come, Margaret 1 nave
undertaken to work my way ont to India, and
the captain has promised to get me engineer
ing work rs soon as we arrive II Is no degra-
dation," he said, stontly. II did hope to nave
begun higher up; but I've never shirked work,
and I'll show that gentleman can do as good
days work as any one. I've toiled with dust,
and dirt, and oil, and what NOT, ana II 90 ~
again. know my trade thoroughly, the
lowest rs well As the highest part OF it it's
only to begin over again, and l m young ana
strong
"Yes. it's all true, ;" said poor Margaret, and
these few words were all she could say.
81 shall not forget you, Margaret; it may be
twenty years before we meet again but :even
then, shall be yours only
Margaret smiled, but this time it was poor,
wan, Struggling smile. II shall be old and
faded then, Stephen
at does not NATTER he returned, with a
steady. loving gaze "You may be old and
faded, worn and shriveled; but you will be
more to me than any other woman"
Here they turned their steps back to the
church.
well. Stephen, 1 bind you by no promise
we will follow the prOmptlngs oil our own
hearts. We have the world before us, and God
to aid u.s." she said.
They walked on silently for a little time
1--WE must part now, dear Stephen.
II sail tomorrow, Margaret"
They stood and gazed sadly on the grave
stones; there seemed nothing but an atmos-
phere of dampness and decay around them,
only the warm love and young hopes IN their
breasts but these triumphed, even in the sor-
row of the hour. He held her in his strong
arms for one last caress, and then released
her. In another minute he had gone. And so
they parted with wrung hearts, fearing, as
many young lovers have feared. that the hour
glass Of time, or the scythe OF death, would
stand between them-in this life.
Stephen Sellon pulled his hatover his eyes
and bent his steps towards the little inn,
where his worldly goods were packed ready,
for transit, in depressed and remorseful
state of mind. He was miserable enough, and
though he bit his lips and clenched his teeth,
| it was hard work to keep the tears from start
ing. twas in vain that he inwardly exhort-
| ed himself not to feel this wringing pain at
his heart that he repeated to himself, at first
men tally, and afterwards aloud for greater
| effect, that hard, wise saying OF Queen Eliza
beth, thine will comfort us, and why not dc
| for ourselves Times office p Nature, not
manhood, was uppermost. His dinner was
| dispatched, and then he lighted his pipe,
| crossed his legs, and gazed moodily into the
| fire. He folded his arms tightly across his
chest thinking of her. Then he opened the
| window, and leant out with some romantic
| idea that the wind would watt her breath to
| him, or that the same moon should look down
| on both. He had not naturally genius for
| man will do such things. In his minds eye
| he beheld her as his wife; and again, he saw
her fretted and worn, struggling for her
| father with adverse circumstances. ana SINK.
! ing quietly, but surely, while his arm would
| be far from her. Then an organ boy added
| his mite of torture and commenced Angloli
| d amore, a song he had often heard Margaret
| sing; he turned away as the mad been stung
| 1t suggested unfaithfulness, and he tried to
| recall her actual words. No VOW had been
given, though much had been implied. So be-
| ing driven from the window by the organ, he
| returned and faced his friend, the fire, watch
| ing ring after ring of pale blue smoke ascend,
! until he fell into a sort of doze, then started
| up, looked at his watch, got his luggage to-
| gether and hurried OFF i'll time to catch the
| night train for town.
| ITO BE CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT