The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1863-03-12

But at last Fate ana the reDelB WeTe too
strong for him. In the battle OF Centervllle he
lost an arm and was severely wounded BESIDES
in the hip, The hospitals were full and as
soon as he could bear moving he was sent home.
1t was some weeks before he could walk at all,
and then he was told that sea air would help
to recruit his exhausted energies and sent on
by his physician to Newport. Perhaps he went
the more willingly when he he knew that the
DaTricotts had a summer cottage there, ana IN
his heart he was conscious of a secret yearnlng
to see Ethel again. And yet Grace had been
right when she OWNED that he would never
ask a second time the qustion he had asked on
that February night. To have been twice re-
liected by the same woman would have been a
moral imp disability. He hardly knew himself
Why he wa nted to see her, or what vague hope
he had,
He had been in Newport a week before he
called on her. He had trusted to meeting
her first by some accident. But she was eviN
IDENTIFY very retired. He concluded fortune was
not on his side and as he really wanted to see
her.very much, gave over waiting for lucky
chances, and went there.
She was alone when his card was brought to
her. She knew of his wound-knew what
changes to expect in seeing him.. She sat IN
Ter own room long enough to tortify herself,
and make sure that she would betray no uncall-
ed for emotion. With face and manner school
ed to mere frlendliness, she went down. Her
self command almost failed her as he came to
meet her with hating step, and she saw the
empty coat sleeve hanging at his side. 1t was
so pitifull to note the decay of that fine, vigor-
Gus manly strength-to think of the good right
arm that he would never use more.
i am home for good now he said, with an
evident effort to bear himself cheerfully. 1T
is a great disappointment. l had so hoped to
be able to help on the good cause till it reached
the triumphant end which is sure to come
Then you have no doubt of the final resnlt?'
Ethel asked, forcing herself to speak, and
knowing that she could trust her voice on any
subject less general.
Not a doubt The great cause of human
liberty is not to receive its death blow in this
land at this day. The world has been tending
for centuries towards this eliminating point.
The battle is not between the North and
South merely but between anarchy and Cow
ernment, honor and d~ishonor, right and wrong.
Our country is only the great battle ground
for the conflict of all ages. Do you think i'll
such an epoch the right could fail?
Ethel's face kindIed in response to his eager
glance. Then she looked at his arm, and sighs
ed as she said, softly:
'How much it costs =
we set small value, you know on that which
we do not buy dear he answered with that
grand, brave smile of his.
i think no price could be too great to pay.
l would have given life as cheerfully as l
gave what l did but then, that is not much to
say for a man who has no ties to make life prec'
ious.'
Would you have staid at home if had an
sweIed you differently that night?'
Ethel never could tell how she came to ask
this question. The words seemed to utter them
selves without her ~volition. She could have
bitten her tongue off for speaking them q mo-
ment after.
He looked at her, a little surprised, perhaps,
yet not displeased for the kindness OF his smile
did not change, and his voice was almost Ten
der as he replied:
sNo, I should not have staid at home even in
that case. Duty is duty just as much when a
man hes every thing TO make it hard to do it,
as when any great disappointment makes all
sacrifices easy. And yet / might not have been
so fearless in the bour o fdanger ifI had thought
that there was one at home whose heart and
life were linked so indissoluby to mine-who
knows?'
He had spoken the last words musingly, as
if more to himself than her. Embarrassed be-
yond expression by the question she had asked
she did not know how to take up the CONVERSE
ton. Just then her cousin Grace came in, land
made her task easy. Never was interruption
more welcome,
After that they met often but the old subs
ject was not again limited at between them
Now, strangely enough, something like intima-
cy seemed to be springing up between Captain
Revere and her cousin Grace. At first the sight
Of it cost her a bitter pang, but she conquered
it bra vely-conquered it so entirely that she
was able to love Grace as before, and to kiss her
tenderly night and morning, as che had done
since she was a little child. Yet she wes but
a woman with a womap's weak defenceless heart
and sometimes it ached with a keen, sharp pain
when she saw Grace drive away by Captain
Revere's side, in a low, easy going carriage, in
which he passed hours of every day upon the
beach.
In one of these drives Capt. Revere surpris-
ed his compaeion by saying, with q culver OF
pain in his voIce:-
Grace, if l were not the miserable cripple
that | am, | should ask you to love me but l
should not do it without telling you how dear |
once held your cousin Ethel
Grace Darricott fairly trembled. She bad
never dreamed of this. She had grown so in
innate with him only for Etbers sake, in order
thsk q time might come when she could honor
shly. and dehcately let him know the state of
her. con ~tn's heart. Of supplanting that cousin
sha had ne -er dreamed. And yet-poor human
notnra-she u'xs tempted for just one sorrow>
frT roon,ont lIqyaFd Revere had long seemed
- bar ,oe embo3im ent of her noblest concep-
ton Of manhood. A .'hrill of troubled JOY at
his words told her how easy II would be to
love him. For a moment her heart painted al
ter this bliss beyond her hop -, adorned VIII
all the grace and glory she had dMFefL Oh 'nIouen
dreaming years. Then resolutely ~@ = an"d
her the cup she had no right to taste, %'2 saved
the sweet draught for another, Her Toice'
when she spoke, was as calm as if she had E.Ss>
sed through no perilous crisis of emotion. i ~.
know woman very slightly, Captain Revere, II
! you do not know that one who loved you would
love you all The better, esteem it all the more
an honor to be your wife, because of what the
whole country would recognize as a badge OF
glory. But pardon me, l think You ought not
to use the past tense about your love tor Ethel
L cannot believe that it Is dead, any more
than is her love for you
Ethel! Her love for me- You do not mean
that she ever loved me-?
He SPOKE with a changed manner, a wild glad
eae erness, which would have argued poorly
for Grace's hope of happiness with him had she
been mad enough to cherish any. 1t was easy
TO see now in kindIing glance and earnest tone
whom he loved-whom he would always love
Grace smiled-most women can when a
heart-ache lies underneath.
Yes 1 am sure. She would not ike il, per-
haps at present she would not f0rgive it, If she
dreamed that / had let you know; but L cam
not think two lives ought to be sacrificed to
the delicate scruples of maidenly pride. Ethel
does love you. She loved you all the time
And YET he said with a puzzled tone. as if
it had all seemed q mystery beyond his solving,
she certainly refused me-
That was because of some Quixotic notions
others. She thought then that you were an i'd
Ter in the vineyard "a man living without a
purpose, and she hesitated to ally her life
with yours lest both might be a failure. 1t
was only that she did not quite understand you
then. When you went to the war she began
to see you IN a new light. If YOU had asked
her the same question that day she would not
have said no. Captain Revere turned a face
over which the dawn of a new day had broken,
to his companion.
Il canno. thank you ftly,' he said. You
knew me- better than l knew my self when you
told me nv love for Ethel was not dead. And
aaanAnaI L. I tnnk har