The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1864-03-12
The Old Love.

hhureu hdyHe Sal alone III AeT quiet pafiOI
1t was late in November, and a great wood
fire blazed on the hearth, lighting up the re-
hottest corner OF the apartment with rudy
glare. The warm light fell full over the lonely
woman, reclining in the wide easy chair. and
brought out with vivid dstinctness every line
and curve OF her motionless figure.
Miss Hayne had probably seen thirty years
of life, though the silver threads on her tenn
Piles gave you the impression that she was
older. She was slight and tall, with deep
grey eyes; abundant brown hair put plainly
back from her forehead, well cut, clearly de-
fined features, and a mouth which had once
been sweet and womanly, but now its express
sion was cold and hard. The crimson lips
shut tightly, and there was steel-like de-
termination about them, at variance with the
tender light In the downeast eyes, and the
thoughtful curve of the fair brow. Looking
in her face, you knew that all Miss Haynes
life had not passed as the days she was now
living. The existence of her girlhood was a
thing entirely discovered from the present
looking back npon it, she could scarcely real
ize that she was the same gay girl who, six
years ago, had made the Red Rock farm house
vocal with the music of her laughter.
For six years she had been a recluse. Her
only companions at the farm were the sturdy
hired man and his practical wife, who, under
her supervision, managed the farm work. She
had received no compaDy-gone none abroad;
she had buried the world and its interests;
and a little removed from the turmoil of the
city, she dwelt on in seclusion. Little chill
dren avoided her. Neighbors never ran In Of
an evening, for an hours chat with her; the We
ny dogs trotted past her gate withoutstopping
TO utter friendly bark. Yet, MES Hayne
was unkind to no living creature. She was
only supremacy Indifferent. Positive ill tenn
per would have made her more popular than
this strange, passionless apathy, through the
ice OF which nothing could penetrate.
At twenty-five, Mildred Hayne was the ac-
knowledged belle OF her yicinity-the liyeli-
est, gayest girl for miles and miles around.
To her personal grace and beauty she united
charms of mind and heart far above the COM
mon order. Sensitive, high spirited, confd-
ing and affectionate, she won the love of Paul
Lancaster-the only son and heir of Judge
Lancaster, at the Hall; and with the consent
Of all concerned they were betrothed.
Mr.. Lancaster was handsome, well educated,
engaging in his manners, and self ,rilied.
Never in his life had single wish of his been
allowed to die unqualified. He knew nothing
OF disappointments, nothing of selfsacrifice;
ne was noble and generous; but impulsive,
almost reckless.
They had been engaged ayear, when there
came to Portand--the city of Mr.. Lancaster's
birth-a fair southern lady, distant relative
OF Paul's mother. Isabel CORTLAND was beau
tiful and fascinating, and was much in the So
ciety OF the Lancasters. There is no need of
enlarging on the subject; it was but repeti-
ton OF the old story-the first love was valu-
less beside the second. Almost before he was
aware Of his perfdy, Paul Lancaster avowed
his passion for the fair stranger, and heard
the words from her lips which made his life
an Eden.
Like a flash of lightning from cloudless
sky, came the knowledge TO Hidred that her
lover was hers no longer She did not weep
nor rave-she heard it with white face and
nervs like steel; her own heart was so true
and loyal, that 1t was with difficulty that she
could understand such dishonor In the man
she loved. She did not censure him for low
ing another better than herself, and remem-
bering now that he had kept her in ignorance
OF the change in his feelings, she was cold
and unforgying; and when she sent Paul free
from her presence, it was with a command
never to seow his face to her again as long as
they both should live.
From that time Hildred was an altered wo-
man. She did not pine, nor NOPE, but her
youth seemed dead. She went about slowly
and methodically, became hard and calcuat-
Ing In her disposition, and shut out all love
from her heart. When her parents died,
within few months OF each other, leaving
her all alone in the world, but for her little
sister, Mary, she refused TO break up the old
establishment at Red Rock farm, but lived
still, taking all the responsibility of her large
farm on her slender shoul ders.
Mary, beautiful golden haired Mary, was her
solace-the only thing she seemed TO love TO
her she was tener, devoted and self. saciiicing.
The sole tie that bound Mildred Hayne to hu-
manity Even this was rent away. A maig-
nant fever swept over the vicinity of Red
Rock farm, and Mary was smitten Three
dreadful days Of dumb agony to Hildred pass
ed, and on the fourth day she held her dead
sister in her arms And when they buried the |
sweet girl Hildreds human love was laid to |
rest in the cold grave. Thenceforth, for the
dark-eyed, lonely woman at Red Rock farm,
the world had not solitary charm
Only once since her Punishment Of him had |
she seen Paul Lancaster. The day her sister |
was buried, he had thrown a snow-drop into |
the grave, and, as he turned away they two |
met face to face. There was q wild implor- |
ing, passionately tender look in his dark ewes.
stony, immovable look in hers, and not |
word was spoken. He understood her.
He went away into the world soon after
wards. The Hall passed out of the hands of |
his father, who removed to distant State and
Hildred knew nothing further of the family
No one ever mentioned them to her; she |
made no Inquiries she said to herself she did |
not care to know.
Life passed ON monotonousy enough. She |
hardly noted the change of seasons, except as |
agricultural interests compelled her TO do so. |
one LUX HIte lnougnt Tor the things OF to- |
morrow, she never looked toward it was |
doubtful even If she realized the present She |
might have interested herself in the poor, but |
she did not; she gave nothing to beggars sat |
In no sanctuary, and lived life hidden from |
the view of all.
That November night, HildrNd for the first |
time In many years, was looking over her past |
life. Somehow her heart felt softer--there |
were tender memories at work; the spirit OF |
mercy pleaded with iron breasted Justice; she |
almost felt that she conld forgive Paul Lam |
caster all he had made her suffer- A rap at |
the door aroused her. She waited, expecting |
old Francis or his wife to answer the cali, bit |
evidently they did not hear. and taking up the |
lamp, she went herself The air was thick |
Win snow; and on the doorstep, his blu |
overcoat grey with the feathery flakes, stoo
man Ia the federal uniform. He lifted his |
hat, and spoke with courtesy:
is this the residence of Miss Hildred
Hayne?'
ut is" she answered coldly "what is your
business? v
The young soldiers bronzed cheek flushed
at he naughty tone, but he replied with feel
ing: MADAM, have in my charge woun-
ded off1cer who was given over to die by our
regimental surgeon; and on his discharge
from the hospital he made one solemn request,
probably his last one. He asked to be brought
here. that his dvinU hraatb ,,,iohf ha drav,,