, 1865-01-20


on my hand shed tears, thinking what if were
that lover, and Rose 0mstead sung that song
to me. Do we never unconsciously reach the
future2 Sometimes think so
AS we walked away to take the stage the next
morning, Benjamin Bitterworth wore q queer
smile upon his face, and rubbed his long black
gloves as though something pleased him might
ly. At last he said to me in his oily tones, with
peculiar affectaton of accent which it had
pleased him to adopt:
'Brother Dove, want to ask your opinion on
an important subject"
That was odd My opinion had never been con-
sidered of any Importance before, but bowed
my head and waited.
"Do you believe, Brother Dove, that Rose
I Olmstead would make good clergyman's
wifeH'
That was the question. My cheeks flushed
scarlet My heart beat loudly, but turned to-
ward Benjamin and looked him full in the face.
81 know she would make good wife for any
man who might be fortunate enough to win her
love, y answered.
"Loyel" Benjamin Bitterworth elevated his
eyebrows awe were not speaking of love
believe" ne said, ''but of fitness. We should
put the vanities of this carnal world out of the
question when look for wives, Brother
Dove"
made no answer this time, and we walked on
in silence for many moments, when Benjamin
again spoke
4 believe that she would be admirably fitted
for the position, he said, and intend to actup-
on the belief I have been resolved to marry
for several years. and Deacon Omstead' daugh-
ter seems to have excellent qualities. shall Of
fer her my hand
Perhaps she win not accept it,.
said it angrily. Ny voice was not under con-
troll at that moment. Benjamin Bitterworth un-
derstood mel saw that in his cold black eye.
But he answered without emotion
Her father would decide that, think He is
a man Of judgement, and she is an obedient
! daughter
perhaps she might choose for herself an
swered.
Perhaps, said Benjamin, 'but think she has
been brought up we'll
! 'You may have rivals, continued.
| 1T is not consistent with my cloth to be any
man S rival replied Benjamin. What l do
| Brother Dove, l do from a sense of duty. | am
not governed by carnal passions and hope you
are not
! 'Pous words and spoken with solemn face
But knew thstunder that cloak Benjamin Bitter
| worth flung the gauntlet of defiance at my feet.
! We said no more but went on toward the stage,
he treading softly along the road on the tips of
! his polished boots his thin lips pressed sanct-
moniously together, his black gloved hands fold
ed behind his back, while warm and ang
! ry, put strong restraint upon myself to walk
| beside him decorously.
After this we met only under Deacon Ohm
| stead's roof, but we met there often. | went
! thither to see Rose. l made no disguise of the
fact He Benjamin Bitterworth, sat aloof,
talking to her father, as general thing and on
| ly now and then interposing between us, and
! then only as it seemed to prove his power. In
! whatever he did in this way he aided and
abetted by old Deacon Olmstead. | could see
that plainly. But saw that Rose began to like
me very much In that trusted, for though
a stern parent Deacon Olmstead seemed to love
/ Rose.
| Summerfaded, and the roses in my darling gar
| den died with it. But there were scarlet dahlias
and Queen Margarets, and margolds blooming
| yet and the naples about the house grew red
| in the autumn sunset in which walked beside
her, and golden haze lay upon all things, and
through ] looked at Rose and the future. At
| last | spoke to her, saying something like this;
| 4 love you Rose, think love you more than
man ever loved woman. Can you love me well
enough to be my wife?'
And her head sunk low upon my shoulder,
and gathered my darling up against my heart
| We we're in the garden then, beside great elm,
| older than the house itself, and sheltered by it;
we stood together, supporting her. she leaning
| on nv breast we heard nothing save each 9TH
ersvoices and tookI the little hand in mine, and
slipped a tiny ring upon her taper fingers, one
! that had cen my mothers betrOthal ring, and
! which, upon her death bed, she gave me, bid
ding me give tito the girl loved upon the day
she promised TO marry me.
! And so the sun went down, and the elm trees
! shadow lay dark across the path, and mingled
| with it fell another shadOw-that of Rose Ohm
stead's father He came upon suddenly and
| found us standing together. Rose would have
shrunk from me, but l would not let her 60
She has promised to be my wife, sir, l said
| Give us your blessing. 1t is all we need to make
US happy. You will give her to me will you
not? l love her very dearly.
The deacon's face was like stone, could not
read its import; but he drew his daughter to-
wards him and stood between us.
You have done wrong, Mr.. Dove, he said,
very wrong. She is young and has but little
judgement l will speak to her alone. should
have spoken to her before, but thought one of
your profession could be trusted. Good evening.
! Come Rose.
And he passed into the house, taking her with
him, and as left the garden | saw Benjamin
Bitterworth, with bis stately step and folded
! hands, making his way along the road.
Next day boy came to my study with anote.
1t was from Deacon 0lmstead ndsummoned me
to his dwelling.
| went at once, and in the parlor found Rose
| pale as lily, sitting beside her father She
! looked at me | came in for moment and
then turned her face aside, and hid it with her
| hand. She did not speak. Her father spoke for
her: Were you older Mr.. Dove might be harsh
| er, but regard you both as very innocent and
inexperienced. Had l known this baby play
of courtship was going on, it would have been
stopped before. 1t is not too late now, Rose sees
her folly, she has resolved to obey me. Some
triAe of yours-a ring believe-she will return
to you, and then you will part. Rose.
She left her seat he turned toward her and,
crossing the room, calmly and sadly laid the be-
trothal ring on my hand.
Good bye, she said, i must obey papa. It is
all over between us. Goodbye, William.
But l could not be so calm. l caught her hand
and turned toward the stern old man with his
iron face.
'Dy you remember your own youth? cried.
| do you know what you are doingP
And he answered, My duty hope. shall
endeavor to securethe best interest ofmy daugh-
ter. You will cease to urge the point whenyou
hear she is to marry the Rev. Benjamin Bitter
worth week from next Sunday ..
"Marry him !" cried. "Rose, have you con-
sented o this7 Are you false to me? Have
you"
he checked me with solemn wave Of his
hand.
'You have done your best to fl my dsugh-
ter's mind with folly" be said, "but you have
not succeeded. She knows now that this ro-