The Hillsborough recorder. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1820-1879, 1861-11-06

lway, brought Mrs. blanchard . letter from
Iher daughters dashing, fashionable woman,
who lived in the city. and who wished to
bring her sister Cora "out" the coming win.
ter. " She is old enough now" she wrote.
"to be looking for husband, and Of course
ahe'il never do anything in that by place"
1 This proposition, which accorded exactly
with Mrs. BIanchard's wishes, was joyfully
acceded to BY Cora, who, while anticipating
the pleasure which awaited her, had yet no
thought Of proving false to Walter. and in
the Iette. which she wrote informing him Of
| her plan, she assured him Of unchanging f.
sdelity. little dreaming that the promise thus
ltnade would soon be broken!
Petled, caressed, flattered aud admired. as
she was in the circle Of her sisters friends.
how could she help growing worldly or vain,
or avoid contrasting the plain, unassuming
Walter, with the gaily-dressed butterflies
whe thronged Mrs. Burton's drawing room.
When the summer came again, she did not
return to US, as we had expected, but we
heard Of her at Saratoga and Newport. the
admired Of all admirers; while one. it was
said to be man Of high position and untold
wealth. bid fair to win the beauteous belle.
Meantime. her letters to Walter grew short
and TAR between. ceasing at length altoge,h-
er; and one day during the second winter OF
her residence ia the city, received from her
a package containing his miniature, the let
ters he had written, and the books he had
given her. These she wished me to give
him when next saw him, bidding me to tell
him to think no more of one who was not
worthy Of him.
ITO be plain, Lottie." she wrote. |" am
lengaged. and though Mr.. Douglas is not . bi
like Walter, he has a great deal of money
drives splendid horses, and reckon we shai
get on well enough. wish though. he was
not quite so old. You'll be shocked to hear
that he is almost ffty, though he looks about
forty. know do not like him as well as
did Walter, but. after seeing as much Of the
world as have, could not settle down tC
be the wife of a poor minister. ] am moi
good enough, and you must tell him so.
hope he won't feel badIy-poor Walter. I've
kept the luck Of his hair. couldn't par,
with that; but of course Mr.. Douglas viii
never see it. His hair is gray! Goodbye
i This was what she wrote, aud when
head from her again she was Cora Douglass
and her feet were treading the shores Of th,
1 Old World, whittier she had gone on bri
dial iOur.
Ia the solitude Of his chamber, the younl
student learned the sad news from a para
graph in city paper, and bnwing his hea'
upon the table, he str0ye 10 artlculale. "lt i
well;" but the flesh was weak, warring viii
the spirit. aud the heart which Cora Blsn
chard had cruelty trampled down, clung /,
her still with ,leath-like fondness, and FOL
lowing her even across the waters, cried oui
lIow can ! give her up:" But when b
remembered. that twas sin TO love her now
he buried his face in his hands. and callin
, on God TO help him in this hour of need. weI
such tears as never again would fall for Cor
Blanchard.
The roses 10 our garden we're faded an
5 the leaves Of autumn were piled upon Ii
ground, ere he came TO his home again. an
r had an opportunity Of presenting him th
\ package which many months before had bee
8 committed to my care. His face was yer
. pale and. his voice irrmbled as he asked me
: = Where is she nowf"
q "ln Italy," | answered. adding that he
!, husband was said to be very wealthy.
1 Bowing mechanically, he walked ava,
!. and year aud half went by ere | saw hi
: again. Then he came among Us as our mil
/. lister. The old, whIte-haired pastor, who {,
d so long had told Us Of The Good Shepherd an
4 the better land, was sleeping at last in q
b quie, graveyard. and the people had chose
]. young Walter Beaumont TO 6Il his plac
a He was a splendid looking man-tall. erec
}, and finely formed. with most winning maj
IS ner, and face which betokened intellect
e the highest order. We we're proud Of hir
e all Of s-proud Of our clergyman. whu. O
/, the third Sabbath Of June, was to be ordair
e ed 10 the old brick church, before whose a
{ .ar he had years ago been baptized smilil
infant.
!. On Thursday afternoon preceding the o
e dlination, large travelling carriage. covcrs
/. with dust and laden with trunks. passs
!, through our village. attracting much after
( tion. Seated within vas portly gray.hai
0 ed man. resting his chin upon gold. .heade
o cane. and locking curiously ont at the peop
d N the streets. who stared as curioBsly At hin
e Directly opposite him, and anguidIy reclir
: ing upon the soft cushions. was a whit
!. proud.faced lady. who evidently felt no il
C terest IN what was passing around her. e
j. her eyes we're cast down. and her though
i seemed busy elsewhere. ] was sitting at m
$ eh.mber window, gazing out upon them, an
a just as they drew neat the gate, the lad
: raised her ryes--the soft brown eyes whic
!, once had won the lave Of Walter Beaemon
i and IN which there was now an unmistakabl
j. iook of anguish. as IL the long eyslssh,
e dropping % YEARLY upon the colorless ehee
8 were constantly forcing back the hidden tear
: Aud this war Cora Douglass, come back |
b u sgain IRON her travels in foreign land
!, She knew me in moment. aud in her fac
! there was much oi her oIden look, as bendin
0 forward. she smiled a greeting. and wave
{ toward me her white. jeweled hand. on whie
!. the diamonds flashed brightly in the sun
light.
. The next morning we met. but not IN IN