Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1862-05-15
VERA VANCE,:

/ And so, Cousin Jammc. you love me =
Well the words stir mp n little thrill in my
heart. though | know from the calm tone Of
your letter, that It's only kind of plaionic love.
that might 10 Its warme>i Mo,nents, be brother
ly Affection nothing more. | do not mistake
your feelings, yet the words thrill my heart,
because they stir up some hat-Nmried mem
ores
Love! What is it, 1t has been nioe.t ten,hs
of my life until now, and row tcsr don f"rccly
its pleading fingers that would taiu grasp my
heart-strings
wonder why God gave people the power TO
love. when He meant it TO be u source of rest.
less pain to thrm Nonsense! I've never
loved 1t is true when received nv first
proposal, nearly two years ago. did crv and
say In four years, 'f pa will lie; me-" P-haw
LIS the same stereot,ped old story: A mis-
understandings final estrangemeni-then
nothing left hnt memory No,hIng-did | say
nothing? Was the eager, ycarning paencss
that crept over my features. nohlng7 Yer.
the restless days aud nights noh'ng' No. |
was child, they loId me, and yet the weight
of lis sixteen years pressed very heavily upon
my heart.
Who loved me next7 Yes. remember
but when he was seventeen yenrs old he had
bcrothej himself to his cousin. She loved
you, Marion, You never told me in 50 many
words that you loved me yet somebody says,
The full heart knows no rhetoric Of worCs"-
We'll we know none There had been no guilty
words of tenderness between us There was 10
tic binding you to me and Marion you kept
/ the engagement | could not have loved you,
or should have died ere this.
What next? Fred loved me! How the
word. mockcd me when he wrote how gladly
he'd give his life JUS, to live one hour in the
sunlight Of my love! What ma',ered it? |
didn't care for him, and no d, ubt he has got
over it long since
What next, did you ask Oh, nothing
only there's dear face with sorious'y regal
eyes, haunting NE and, though | don't love it
vet, ] reallze that | might possibly worship it
under different circumstances. But now the
lesson my lille has been spent learning, rings up
to me. I'll repeat j, over, for great fear tugs
at nv heart lest forget it. Listen how much
wisdom it expresses Shall ! chain myself down
in poverty's relentless arms9 Has so much
pains been expended upon me that | may mar
nv some pover,y-sricken lover, and feel every
finer feeling aud enabling impulse dying out
mid the uacnding round of toll And when
hea tn fame comfort, and friends, are all gone,
taunting friend to whisper When Poverty
comes 10 ut the door, Love flies out of the win
dow''
There do know my lesson. Forget it in.
deed! Isn't it written 10 burning characters Of
fir" all along the quiverng life-chords Of my
being?
So ran the majority of letter, dated Rose
Heath, November s,h," and signed "Vcra
Vance"
1t was fair. young, hoyish face tha, bent
over it. and pair of pitying eyes we're dim
with misty tears. Twas only moment
then. as if determined to sha of the haunting
thoughts, he glanced at the hegnnmg of the let
ter. with fain, shadowy smile and said
What penchnt we Ecmurkians have for
ca!ug each other cousin" wish was her
cousin. her mothers own nephew Yes, wish
! was her brothor-thcn. perhaps | won'dn't
make fool Of myself Ivy labor;ng under the
! absurd halluclati"n that I'm in love. Would
| | have her when know she'd only marry me
Tor my money? Doot her letters speak as
plainly as possible? She loves. no doubt. some
poverty stricken genius, that pride won't let
her marry. And now, after my confession Of
love-cnlm in its very depth and intensity
she cun see it is Gully KIDD Of plaouc love-.
.ah lis my opinion women are the greatest
idiots on the gobe-except- perhaps tie
men who love them "
u And Jimmie Macon walked to the window
and tapped on the shining panes impatiently.
Here I've been writing to her the duce only
knows how lorg," he broke out fercey; "and
nov, on the strength of her last letter. so alb
surdly sentimental, l was lunatic enough tc
propose, and this is the end of it!'
There was moments silence, and then he
continued
, But 1t amt tho end of it. 1t shan't be the
end of it, love the girl! I've got money =
Who cares if she does marry me for my money
3 She shall have it! III marry her What dc
! care who loves her-shel be mine !"
, And with the fierce passion waves beating hi
, soul to madness, the young man grasped his per
: with Desperate defiance, and in an hour another
letter was sent.
, CHAPTER III.
Q "'There's the church bell, father, shall W,
B.. go?" 1t was Vera Vance that spoke, as sh
took the arm OF tall blue-eyed gentleman
3 who was looking in the library for some oil,