The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1864-03-17
! word of it. You are repeating some

"oru Vi lt' Lou are repeating SOtn'
vile fasehood." 9mi3 f8f
81 knew you'd feel bad," said Gray
ling, with provoking mildness, ''but
thought you knew how matters stood
/ can show Sam's letter, if that will bt
any more satisfactory. ! never die
have any faith in Harry Ives, care
less, dashing fellow, who"
sHush / will not listen to anothe,
word," calculated Bessie, angrily, and
with a certain strsnge dignity in hel
girl face and 81. er form. osa
"Mr. Atterly," said Grayling, still
with aggravating moderation and calm
ness," show long is it since your
daughter received letter from Harry
Ives ?" 8I4e ~ -
"Well, it is pretty considerable
SPELL" said the old farmer, "but letters
do take some time to reach US, you
know"
"Yes, particularly when they are
never sent" sneered Crawling.
"Father. don't listen TO him. sobbed
Bessie, passionately. "If the whole
world were to tell me Harry Ives were
unture I would not believe them" fr-
And Bessie tainted quietly away,
with her chestnut braids of hair droop
| ing over her fathers knee. st 7ea-.
| Poor child! Could she have but
forseen the weary month of waiting
for the letter which never came from
those far off Southern bills, the hope
deferred which maketh the heart sick,
that were in store for her, she might
have been sorry, that she had not died
then and there, holding fast to that firm
faith in Harry Ives fidelity.
JAS. Grayling, a crafty, patient man,
bided his time. 1t came at last when
the tender green of the hill side shriv-
elled and grew brown under the starry
silent frosts of the bitter December
nights, and the keen wind rnshed with
thunderous swell through the lonely
pine forests in these wild solitudrs.
Daughter, it's the dearest wish of
my heart" said farmer Atterly, solemn
ly, as he sat with Bessie in the old, ST.
lent room. "I'm getting well on in
years, and if / could see you married
to some good and true man before |
am taken away should rest easier in
my grave. James Grayling has been
almost a son to me these months of
trial and trouble. He is coming for his
final aswer tonight. Let it be YES"
Bessie shuddered. That year Of
sick, wistful grief had changed her
into pale, fragile girl. with large
frightened eyes ever rowing from side
to side, as if vainly seeking for some
thing which never came.
"W ait father" she murmured eager
ly, as if pleading for sweet life itself,
swat little longer, only little Ion
ger" mol
81 have waited, Bessie. 1t is year
or over since Henry ives has sent you
word or message. He may be dead /;
better dead than a scoundrel! But
James Grayling has been as true as
steel to me all this time. He deserves
you, Bessie; and when you're once
married, you'll learn to love him. Shall
we say this day month for the your
wedding, my daughter ?" f9 2ao
That night Bessie laid her cold hand
in James Grayling's eager palm, and
said "Yes," dreamily, to whatever he
proposed. What had life for herp As
well be James Grayling's wife as any
thing else, since God willed that she
should live and suffer on, and the
dreary path of years lay spread out
before her listless feet. lsa , ss
The old smoke, stained walls were
wreathed with feathery garlands of
cedar and pine, with the scarlet berries
of the mountain ash glow here and
there; the great fire roared up the
chimney with festive sound, and all
the neighbors were gathered around
farmer Atterly's hearth. stone, for pref
ty Bessie was to be married that night.
"She don't look like as bride ought
to some how" whispered Mrs. Deacon
Jennings to her companion, Mahala
Bird. "She seems to me Just like one
o'them white snow wreaths lynn down
in the hollor yonder." j9iil .au
"Maybe it's that white Dress" said
Mahala; "but she does look like a
corpse. Land Of Goshen! what be l
T..