Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1863-01-07

martyr, and sobbing forth-"But | tho't
she loved mel Oh. my God thought
she loved me y He flung himself npon-
the floor. and laid there until the grave
stones and the white snow were kissed by
the red sunrise, and the blessed morn of
Christmas dawned once more upon the
world
his promise to the letter, and William had
buried love and grief in his own breast
together. When Jasper wrote TO him, he
always found n tiny note, without direct
ion of any kind, within the envelope, and
always handed it, with few brief words,
to Caroline. But he went no longer along
that road at eventide, and sat no more be-
side hCr. Their interviews were few and
brief, and her manners to him had alter
ed so far that he half feared she guessed
his secret. 1t was hard to keep aloof
from her, but he dared not trust himself
so soon. And so a whole long year pass
ed and Christmas time came around
| again, and Jasper was coming home upon
a visit. No one called him wild now. and
he was fast attaininga place in his profes-
ion and, as he wrote to William, the Sc
cret would soon be secret no. longer
There was another of those little white
notes in the letter which brought these
tidingS, and William walked over with it
to the Graham's homestead. As he en-
tered the old parlor he found Caroline sit
| ting beside the fire, and he saw that her
lashes were wet with tears. Jasper will
be here TO morrow" he said as he seated
himself opposite to her; and he wonder
ed that the words brought no joyous spar
kle to her soft black eyes, and that she
answered in a listlesS manner, and sat still
looking at the fire. Then, as he look ed
at her, he saw how thin she had grown,
and marked the pallor of her fair young
cheek, and read in her whole mien some
thing that told of sorrow crushed down
by strong will but struggling yet for
mastery.
Are you i'll ?" he asked almost inyol-
unfairly "You look so. did not notice
it at first, but you have altered very
much''
She grew crimson. Her cheeks, her
neck, and her brow were suffused in mo-
ment. and she looked at him with a
strange expression of mingled grief and
anger. Il am well, very WELL" she said
proudly. 1t is strange that you should
think me altered"
The young minister arose. Forgive
me" )" he said. Il presumed upon friends
privilege-ior we were friends a year ago.
Miss Graham, and shall be even better
friends tonight than We have ever been"
a year ago" she murmured. as though
she spoke against her will. "a year ago
Yes it is Christmas time again. | had al
most forgotten it." Her cheeks were
whittier now than the snow without the
door, startled by her wild glance and hol-
low voice, William Betsworth sprang for
ward Just in time to save her from falling
to the floor. Senseless and white she lay,
and he placed her in great arm m-ohair
and knelt beside her. Such agony rs
wrnng his heart at that moment had
never tortured it before-for in that one
cry, in sObbing utterance of his name,
in an unconscious clasping of the arms
about his neck, he had read the truth
She loved him-she, the betrothed wife
OF his absent bFother-even as he loved
her LET me die, now," he murmured-|
before | am tempted beyond my feeble
strength. His heart must not be broken
also;" and as the color came to the white
face again, he laid her softly down, with
one long, parting kiss upon her forehead,
and so left her.
On that Christmas morning. when the
bells were ringing for church, a stranger
occupied the pulpit, and Sottened foot
steps in the parsonage, where the young
minister lay very near the gates OF death;
and weeks passed by before the shadow
of his former self stood at the little win
dow looking out upon the grave stones in
the ehurch-yard, and wondering if life
would always be so dreary. As he gazed,
he saw q woman's form amongst the
graves, walk to and fro, and looking
up towards the window. 1t was grey twi-
light, but the outline of her form told him
that it was Caroline, and the sight con-
firmed resolution formed during those
days of convalescence. He would leave
the country and 90 far away to some
heathen land as missionary, he would
be a wanderer upon the earth, a homeless
lonely man, seeking only the good of 9TH
ers, and weaving for himself no tender
ties. He would die there and be buried
by savage hands, or lie uncared for on
some desert spot until the wind had
bleached his bones, and the beasts of the
forest had made dainty meal upon his
flesh, but not for all the world would he Ie
main where he could daily meet the wo-
man whom in few brief days, it would
be guilty to love.
As he turned from the window, with
this thought at his heart, he saw Jasper
standing close beside him. His face was
glowing with joy, and he clasped his
brother about the waist, in his own boy
ish fashion.
"You are well now, WILL" he said soft
ly, and may talk to you again, may
not! | can't hurt you now. She will be
my wife next Sunday, if you are strong
enough to marry us. And have just
told mother, and she is crying in her own
room, as women always will on such oc-
casions. Come, VIII, make Effie mine
next Sunday"
William Bettsworth gave great start
and clutched his brothers arm. "Effie"
he cried, you do not mean Effie -
"Who else should | mean?" laughed
Jasper.
"You have not forgotten ?"
''Effie and not Caroline" faltered Will
liam.
Jasper started at him in amazement
You never thought so?" he said.
"How could think otherwise ?" gasped
William, saw you kiss her hand. You
never told me otherwise"
kissed her hand because she had
been so kind to us, hopeful of our happi-
ness and so trustful of my good inten-
tions," said Jasper. "0h, Will Will |
begin to understand now" And Jasper
folded his brother to his heart and held
him there, as mother might her infant.
William Betsworth married his brother
and golden-haired Effie on the following
Sabbath, and it is very certain that he new
er went to India, or to any distant land,
for if you were to visit that old parsonage
to-day you would find him there, with a
black-eyed wife, whose Christian name is
Caroline, and half-a-dozen children about
his hospitable hearth.-Sladay Times.
OF WoMAN.-I do not hesitate to say
that the women give to every nation
moral temperament which shows itself in
all its politics A hundred times have