Maysville weekly bulletin. [volume] (Maysville, Ky.) 1864-1866, 1864-05-19
ROSS & RossER, Publishers.
MAUD RAYMoND's LOVE.
CHAPTER L.

I
! furnished parlor.s The soft, mellow light of
the chandelier fell upon face, not strictly
beautiful, but very pleasing in its bright
womaply loveliness; and there was a light
/ in the large, brown eye. and a smile upon
the small mouth. that drew one irresistibly
towards her. Though simply dressed, it
needed no very penetrating eye to guess
that the few rich ornaments, that the deli
cate lily of the valley wreath, that rested
amid her glossy curls. and the pretty broach
that fastened her delicate collar-were all
to please the gaze of a lover. ....,-.
A lover laggard one, certainly; for the
little French clock, which stood upon the
marble mantel, had already chimed the
A flush of Mingled hope and fear dyed her
| fair cheek, as she counted the weary mo-
ments.
'When will he Gomez she said, half aud
| IDLY; and pressing her hand upon her heart,
as If to still its wild beating, she rose from
| her seat, and walked the floor iD agony.
| Again, and yet again, the little clock
! chimed forth the hour, ten-eleven; and,
ss the last silvery stroke died away, Maud,
/ with an impatient gesture, brushed away
the bitter tears that filled her eyes-a cod.
stern look settled upon her face; and, mur
muring. He will not be here Tonight
she sadly, and, with wildly beating heart,
| left the room. .... --
All the next day she sat, silent and alone,
| in her little boudoir. She could not sum-
mon resolution to go out; perhaps there was
fainthope in her bosom that he might call;
| but, If so, she was again doomed to disap-
poiutment. 1t was about noon. when a let
qlr was placed in her hand, directed in a
familiar chirography; it ran thus:-
| Dear Maud:-OHce more, and perhaps
| for the last time, let me call you by that
dear name; there is no harm in my doing so
now, for to-morrow's sun will probably see
me ON my way to England. Maud, since
| the first time met you. l have loved you
with my whole heart; how wildly, how
! passionately, you may never know; but let
| it passj l must not speak OF it now. Oh,
darling, forgive me for my seeming thought
lessuess; forgive me for what am about to
write. .--. a
Long before met you, was betrothed /,
| by my parents, to Glare Leslie-a gentle,
! girl, who loved me from childhood. We
were to be married as soon 1 should have
completed my travels, which would have
been weeks since, had l not met you, on
what then intended should be my last day
| in America. Your face attracted me-
charmed me- a woman's never had before.
I strove to forget ito Danish it from my
mind; but could not; and | have fingered
/ bv your side-have watch eG the ever-vary
! ing expression of your dear face-have
drank IN the music of your Voice-have
! told you loved you.
Last evening, 1 had Just finished note
to Clara, telling her Of my love for you, and
was preparing TO visit you, when | received
/ lettets, which have awakened me from my
dream of bliss 10 the full consciousness of
! what L have been doing.
NV parents write me that Clare's health,
naturally delicate, is fading fast; aud that
it is her wish to see me, and be my wife be-
fore she dies.
Can 1 refuse that request--asked per-
haps upon a bed ofdeath-and write to her
that love another? Were to do so, ere
/ one month she would be lying in the cold
grave, and should feel that had placed
her there. ~
| oh, Maud I God alone knows the agony
/ / have suffered for last eighteen hours; the
struggle has been very, very bitter, between
nv love for you and my duty to her; but !
know your noble nature so well, that thin
you will say I have done right, when tel
you that have made arrapgem ments to leave
America for England to- morrow, and in al
probility, shall be married as soon as arrive
there. 1t will be sweeter, far sweeter fol
, me to feel that have SIN oothed her path
way to the grave, than to know that have
shortened her days, and hurried her there
Still. even now, Maud, if you bid mo re
main, 1 will do so; but think you will not
4 Maud, am very wretched and sad To-day
have done wrong in gaining your love
and then wedding another. i ask your for.
siveness; let my wild. deep love for you
excuse me. Will you not write me one lit
tie line, and tell me / am forgiven? Strive
e.
ory; or, think of me only as an erring
though loving brother. You are young
and can forget; but IL never shall; yet
will strive to be content if you are happy
And now, farewell. Oh, Maud pardon
forgive, and in your hearts great depths
: find some pity for g.
Maud read the letter to its close, with
riqid death-like look upon her face. Whel
. she had fnisbed it, she sat in silence 70
some moments; and then, with a half
s $40 othered sigh, she seated herself at he
desk aud wrote: .-.ss.
g philip, you have chosen wisely; ant
though my life-hopes have been bound ~
in you-though you have well nigh crush
ed and broken my heart. ! will forgy
you; you have done wrong, but | will 20
blame you.
/ could have wished that 1 had known Q
your engagement before now; we shoul
both be spared much sorrow; but perha ps
is better as it is. /, at least. will not re
n piDe. -
Philip you have mistaken me If 70
= have, for one moment, supposed would bi
you remain; for Fever, never, though M
"a heart would break in the sacrifce-thous
I knew that, ere the June roses blossome
again, / should by lying in the silent grav
d never would / consent to be your wifi
rs knowing that my happiness was purchase
1t at the cost of another's; aud that other, on
le who had loved you-one who, even nov