The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1861-08-14

would fiirt, my daughter, in your shroud"
A shudder passed over the beautiful
crouching figure, and the poor companion
made false move in her tatting.
"But do not trust to it, Kate; with
youth and beauty it passes away-ah, SO
quickly !"
Then my lady rang for lights, and be-
gan to reckon up the days and weeks
which must elapse before she would dare
to so back to town and gayety, from the
dreary place in Blankshire.
So that year also went by, and then an
other, and another, leaving the promise
unful6lled; and still George Haughton
repeated as firmly as ever, 81 can wait )"
while the hope that had ripened his youth
was withering away manhood.
-Four years more had he served for her !;
this was the fifth. And my lady was back
again at her place in Blankshire, but no
longer alone with her unread novel.
She had filled the house with fashion
and youth and beauty. There were
daughters and sons to be merry, and ma.
irons to gather round the card table of
Lady Patterdaile, and to squabble over
the cards which she touched lovingly
with her trembling old fingers, while the
dancing went on around her.
On such an evening it was that George
Haughton again entered the large draw
ing-room of the place in Blankshire He
stood in the doorway watching the light
clouds Of gauzy blue, and pink and white,
with the black coats that relieved them.
George Haughton's head was higher than
any there ; he leaned, in his lazy strength,
against the wall, watching, with smile
to which years of disappointed hopes had
given sort of despairing bitterness, while
his cousin drew near, and stopped with a
gesture of surprise. George made her a
low bow, and then offered her his ungloy-
ed hand.
"Have you forgotten the day of the
month 2"
"Let me speak to you a moment" he
said, taking her apart from the yest,
When they came back she was looking
up at him laughingly.
"When will you give me up, George
IIaughton z"
"Whea that beautiful blacE head is
streaked with silver rctorted George
! She heard new sound In his voice,
and Shrank from it but the next mo-
ment all her gayety came back, for she
said to herself, imperiously. "He knows
not my power; he can not forsake me-"
Gone word more" said George. "You
call that young lady who left you just
now your friend, do you not"
"Oh, yes-my dearest friend"
"Wen, and the fair-haired young fellow
leaning over the prie-deau is a stranger
to you? 2"
ale was till this evening"
"But not to me. When | came in, yo,.
were flirting with him. When | tell you
that he is engaged to your dearest friend,
will you spare him Z"
With laugh, she broke from the light
restraint of his hand. He looked after
her, and smiled at the folly of asking such
question. He drew himself up, and
pressed his knuckles together, and he
muttered to himself, fercely, Il will; 1
swear it -
So this year George Haughton did not
take himself and his answer away as usual,
but he staid On day after day, patient and
watchful, amongst the other guests of his
aunt.
One evening the poor companion knock
ed, with her tattlng in her hand, at the
door of Catharine's dressing room, and
entered, trembling at her own boldness.
"My DEAR" said the poor lady, and all
the rows of curls on her forehead culver
ed with agitation, "forgive me, but I
could not help it."
"Help what ?" asked Catharine, gently.
"My dear, my dear, an old maids life
is not always happy one. I do not say
that mine is unhappy, but others are dif-
ferently yconstituted-yourself,fo for instance
if such thing were to happen.
A laugh interrupted her; but clasping
her hands, with one point of the tatting-
needle running into them, she went on
most earnestly:
"Alas alas you would be so misera-
BILE! Smile at me if you will for taking
such theme on my old lips !; but know
what it is to trife with a mans heart, and
Heaven help me to lose it."
The last words were but a faint mur-
mur, and the old lady was gone.
"An old maid !" Catharine laughed
again; she sprang up lightly and stood
before the glass, radiant and beautiful,
repeating the words scornfully.
Look once more. The laugh of the fair
cousin has ended in a little cry of amaze
ment look of horror has chased away
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