The Van Buren press., 1861-10-16

dlsregarded his refusal OF my offer, and |
sprung ont of the carriage. extending him |
my hand to assist him to a seat. as though |
l thought it was matter of course that he |
would ride.
Well. we'll, since you wish it, will
so with you. There are not many that are
kind to the old man now. am not now
what was six years ago. was y rich
man thcn-rich--but speculation did the
mischief. See yonder house, just beyond
the school it was mine. All it was q
happy home. but it can never be mine
again"
And thus he babbled on. for the infirmi-
ties Of sgcs, premaluro1y indnrea Ay his
misfortnnes4 bad rendered him garrulous.
He was indeed changed-for among all
seen since my return home. not one had
grown SO old rs he. He did not recognize
me; and as drove slowly along. very
slowly-for he said many things that were
interesting to mel learned more of his
circumstances. and of the sacrifices, conces-
sions, efforts, and flial affection of his
sacrifices, concessions. efforts. and filial af-
lection of his daughter Isabel-the name
affected me, will confess it, more than
had previously ascertained.
had often passed the school-house, as
1t was directly on my way to the farm, but
had never caught sight Of the fair teacher
AS we now approached, observed the
scholars rushing from the door of the
school room, and before we drove up, she
herself emerged and stood before u.s.
" All, Isabel, this kind gentleman urged
me to ride in his carriage. and want you to
thank him in my behalf. because you dom {
know how it has rested me.'
Ii l had renamed unrecognized by the
father, conld not escape the penetrating
glance of the daughter. Her quickly chan
ging color, indicated, at once. that she
knew, or, at least, suspected who was. /
turned my carriags around, sprung out, and
offered to assist her in. saying:
Permit me. Miss Hayne-your father is
fatigued. and 1 will drive you to you,
home-I shall have ample time to attend
to my other business afterwards"
She stammered some excuse, insisted
upon her riding. and had the satisfaction o
seeing her yield.
For moment gave myself up to tn,
happy memories of the past. was agair
beside the only being had ever loved
felt the rustic of her dress against my hand
and notwithstanding my exterior coolnes,
and assumed formality, could not sup
press the tumult within.
Isabel was little changed, but changed
for the better. The naughty belle had be
come the beautiful Madonna. She wa.
pensive, sad. But little was said durins
the homeward drive. except that which wa,
uttered by the talkative old gentleman. Is
abel said nothing What a strange meet
ing. Had been an entire stranger, as Mr.
Hayne supposed me, it could scarcely hav,
been different. She did indeed smile wher
L lifted her from the buggy, then lisped
Thank you," then blushed, then palet
again. Mr.. Hayne cordially invited me t,
revisit their humble cottage, and solicite,
the honor of knowing who | was.
-" Is 1t possible y he exclaimed, tha
this is our old friend Temples son Z? anc
returned rich, too, they say. God gran
you may make good use of your money
But be warned by an old man, and max
no rash venture. Here, Isabel, daughter
Did you know this gentleman. This
Harry Temple. You surely have not for
gotten him %
" scarcely recognized him." she repli.
ed, somewhat confused, as she returned
from the cottage to lead her invalid father
into the house. hope we shall have tn
pleasure of seeing you here again, Mr.
Temple"
| 1t was the same sweet voice rs of old
tempered by charity, humility, and afflic
tion and softened by the influence Of re
ligion and filial affection.
l pondered we'll the circumstances
Should yield to the yearnings of my heart
Should l again offer my hand, perhaps sh,
would not, a second time, reject my offer
l was now rich. and the poor. 1t woult
be no sacrifice of principle on my part tc
offer to wed the poor school teacher although
had determined never to renew my sui
with the wealthy heiress. 1t might hav,
been destiny that decided her to reject my
offer, for had she not done so, / never woul(
have left home and friends to wande, in
foreign climes in pursuit of wealth
might, at this very day. have been groyel
ing in abject poverty-I would have beer
utterly unable to restore the old man ane
his daughter to their old homestead as
now fondly hoped to do. Yes; indeed
pride was conquered. and the principle
which never .hsd been quite extinguishet
within me, but against which l had battlec
with all my might for eight years, a
length triumphed.
visited their cottage repeatedly. and as
sured myself that the change in Isabel,
character, disposition ann manner was deer
and radical. She no longer had high aspi
rations f: her only thought was the comfor
of her doating father.
At length l offered my hand again. and
this time had nc scruples about urging
my suit, since matters occupied quite q
different position from that Of former years
l cannot tell you how happy / was when
1 pressed her to my bosom, and knew tina,
she was to be mine. If had loved her in
her pride, and desired to make her my wife,
how much more loved her now in her
humility, when l knew that 1 could pro-
tect her, and restore her and her dear old
father to their old home again. 1t was in
deed when i saw her shed such copious
tears of joy. All! thought I. this retalIi-
alton, this happiness for unhappiness. is
sweet. both to the donor and the recipient.