The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1863-06-05
Gbe Storp Teller.
MY COUSIN FANNIE.

NO, John Blaiklie, I shall never marry
you, said in tone which meant should
bo particularly severe. Let the CONVERSE
ton end here
Mr.. John Blaiklie laughed in my face,
which, by the way, was just what he ought
not to have done. The consequence was that
grow angry in moment. .
you can laugh Just as much rs you please,
continued There is certain class of peo-
pie in the world that characterize themselves
by laughing at their own folly. You have
heard OF them, haven't your
'0h yes
Again John Blaiklie laughed good na-
tured, happy laugh, which did not testify
very strong for the depth Of his anguish at
my decision. OF course, grew more and
more piqucd; nothing more could be expect
ed Of me.
you are very gentlemanly, Mr.. Blaiklie.
said, in tone which meant should be
very sarcastic.
And | am aware Of that, too, my little
Bessie. he answered, good naturcdly.
Cousin Fanny admires you very much,' j
said, significantly, for moment forgetting
my anger.
'She doesY
IIo grew suddenly thoughtful, and bent
his large. honest blue eyes TO the floor. Then,
as il new resolution had suddenly become
fixed in his mind, he arose, saying
You arc quito sure Of this, Bessie, quite
surcT
Yes, quite sure. II you wish to try your
luck in that direction, you may be certain OF
success
Thank you, Miss Bessie will try
Miss Bessie!' In all his life John Blaik-
lie had never addressed me in that way be-
FORE. stared at him in very surprise. He
did not appear to notice me, but went tow
ards the door, saying, a little sadly, thought,
us he paused at tho threshold
Il have troubled you, not approximately,
Bessie, but because, until now, | have been
ignorant of your true feelings. The future
shall speak for itself. Good morning.
Good morning = faltered forth, staring
still at him in blank amazemcnt.
For moment could not really believe
that he had gone--not until his footsteps
grow faint in the distance, and looking out
of tho window could but indistinctly sec
his tall figure through tho thick mass vt
shrubbery tha. lay between the house and
the road. Then drew long sigh, not OF
relief, am sure, as might have been expect
cd from young lady who had suddenly
found herself rid of an annoying lover; but
sigh which puzzled my own heart to define.
do not know what first put the thought
into my head that should not marry John
Blaiklc. From my childhood, even, had
been taught to look upon him as my future
husband. Through the whole neighborhood
our engagement had grown to be such set
tied affair. and Of such long standing. that
the people forgot to tease us about 1t, and
passed by us us indifcrcntly rs though We
had been married couple tor years instead
somehow, Us said before, Icannot tell why
the idea came to me that marrying John
Blaiklic was not the best way OF settling
myself for lie, after all; and so, working
upon this, grew to believe that did not
love him-and not loving him, what could |
do but assure him that should never be his
wife? And that assurance gave him; rs l
have already shown.
But after he lelt me, that morning, felt
ANYTHING but comfortable. Indeed, the tears
came constantly to my eyes, and though 1
tried as well rs could to keep them down,
they conquered me at last, and sinking down
in my chair, gave up and had a good hearty
cry. | felt a little better after that, and
tried to persuade myself, in my own mind,
that had done just the best thing could
DO ior the insurance Of Johns and my own
happiness. But the worst was yet to come.
The next Sabbath John attended cousin
Fannie to church. This was such new
and strange order Of things, that it set the
whole congregation to staring. Crans.on
could not sleep under anything so incomprc.
hensible. and for that Sabbath, at lcast.
good Parson Green preached to wakolui