The Grand Haven news., 1865-02-15

w u0W uOW lupOItUUt w uISs WIS
the merry answer; and the laughing
group dispersed.
. The large hall Of Claireville was brill
inntly illuminated, whom two hours later
the young girls announced all in readiness
for opening the, doors. The pretty tables,
tasteful decorations, and groups Of lovely
girls. made no mean picture, aud Claire
vile about, admired, and, above all, pur-
chased to the full content Of lhe fair orr
ginators of the entertainment. Hidden
away from sight by the folds Of curtain,
Amy sat shrined in the post-ohice, an
sweripg Lenora's call for letters. Bnsy
excitement had flushed her fair cheeks,
and, as her pen traced familiar names,
one after another, smiles chased each 9TH
er over lips and eyes. Suddenly call
from Nora made her turn pale; her fingers
trembled as she drew from her bosom the
letter she had with prayer. 1t was full
ly directed, yet she hcsitated, holding il
as if reluctant to let it 60.
"Come, Amy, is there nothing for Mr..
Leonard Watson 2" cried Lenora.
The letter was slipped through the ap-
pointed place in the curtain, and Amy
drew quick breath Of apprehension as
she heard the manly voice that said,
(" Thank you, Miss Darcy"
"If he should be angryw she whisper
ed. "If be should be angryw
But Leonard Watson had slipped the
letter carlesslv into the breast pocket Of
his coat, and was sauntering in his usual
lazy manner down the hall. He was a
tall, handsome man, with broad FORE
head, and large eyes, which spoke well
for his heart and intellect; but with the
blaze air and debonnairc manner Of one
from whom the world had not learned TO
look for life's purpose in dcss, The lit,
tie world of Claireville spoke well of Leon
ard Watson. The girls admired his
courtly gallantry, his polished manner,
and honeyed words; the young men ap-
plauded his generosity, his wines, his
horses, and his good temper; the old
heads were ready to worship his wealth,
bis birth, and position; only here and
there a. word was whispered of late revels
at Fairbank, Of an occasional lapse into
inebriety, or dropped hint that "young
Watson was living to fast"
There were many bright bellies who
cherished secret belief of Leonard's s
marked preference, yet the gay heart was
untouched, the burden unsatisfied, and he
was a free man in word and thought, ms
he sauntered up the fair at Clairevillc,
with Amy's letter lying upon his breast.
1t was night, and he was alone in bis
library before he recollected the missiye
then, with an indolent curiosity, he drew
it forth. "Some fat schoolgirl verses,
he muttered, :" or worse, dose Of fiat
terry vailed by an incognita.'
AT first he read with lazy expression
Of mocking on his lips; but rs the lines
were traced with earnest care, as he read,
the mans soul was aroused to thought
and interest. Hot, angry flushes chased
each other over his brow, yet he did not
finch; every word Of the appeal, though
it stung him with its scorcbing truth and
searching questions, was perused faithful
ly, till at the end, the dainty signature,
"your sincere friend,' found him serious
and sad.
| at is all true," he said, in a low tone,
rising and pacing the floor with quick
yet even step. al am wasting all Gods
blcssings--squandering my wealth fool
ishly, undermining my health wickedly,
flinging my best years away in folly, il
not in vice. How earnestly she writes
And her dear brother seems from hel
very heart. Who wrote itl Ha! the
same hand on the envelope as on the in
side, and it was directed by Amy Grey
son. Amy Greyson! Ialways thought
her light hearted child; but this--this
is the letter of noble, earnest, christian
woman. How beautifully she writes i
Yet-yet how she despises me! How
she lasbes my follies and vices! With
what bitter sarcasm she questions my
coursc yet how earnestly she implores
me to pause while there is yet time, and
think Of where the path will lead me +
Think! Ah, she has raised train o.
thought now that will not die---that
can never quiet again Conscience is alive
now, and there is no more careless folly
for me-"
Up and down, pacing sometimes with
the slow tread of earnest thought, again
rapidly crossing and recrossing the room
his foot falling with passionate emphasis
he spent the hours long after midnight
and when at last he sought his room
Leonard Watson, for the first time in long