Daily Ohio statesman. [volume] (Columbus, Ohio) 1855-1870, 1865-10-13

happiness of my life. II cannot and
will not do it," | said in my heart; YET
knowing the while that must, and could.
Then Mark spoke again :it '"l-n
"W'ould you like little time to consider
the matter? / need not leave the H0llies
till Tomorrow evening, or, perhaps, the
next day." ~ re I"'g
"No,"I answered-with or without my
own will, l never knew. 81 know what |
must do. cannot leave Milly." u.
sand Milly cannot 60. That decides it,
last man in the world to try and persuade
any one against their Judgment"
He rose deliberately, but did not go, for |
sat still. 'a. ... n H
"Are you going homer Hester, don't
look so sad; you are feeling for me-don't
do that | should like to think of you
when am over the seas, as happy as Iwould
have tried to have made you. Think of me
sometimes as a friend. | don't expect to
forget you, Hester. Good-by."
His hand, as he held it out, shook ever go
slightly, but it held mine in firm pressure
for an instant. Then he letit drop, stopped
and picked up his gun, whistled his dogs
around him and strobe away along the sea-
wall, without once turning to look back.
Milly and L we're orphans. Our father
and mother had both died in India, and we
were sent home to the care of our sole re-
lation, my fathers only sister, an elderly
maiden lady, living in kind OF lady-like
poverty, at a dull little village at Kent.
Aunt Dolly died when was seventeen and
Alilly twelve, leaving to us the little cot
tage that had been her home and ours, with
everything it contained; no very valuable
bequest but all the poor soul had to leave,
and here Milly and I-not heiresses, no,
but not destitute, neither-continued to
live with the dear old servant who had been
our aunts faithful friend and companion,
and our own kind and affectionate nurse
ever since, fatherless and motherless, we
had been sent to England.
There were not many people to visit
at Hilstead; the rector, the doctor and
the family at the Hollies comprised them.
| think we were most intimate at the
Hollies; for the children were Milly's
contemporaries, and her sworn admirers
and friends. | first saw Mark Suther-
land at the Hollies; he was Mr.. Suther-
lands cousin, and [ had heard of him
often before | saw him. lie had led a
wild, adventurous kind of life, wandering
all over the world for his simple pleasure,
suppose, since | never heard that he had
any other object in doing so. formed my
idea of him, to be sure; the reality was not
| III Jne lcaSt ike IL. NO, quite otherwise
and yet after the first five minutes, would
not have changed the real man for the idea
for worlds.
Do not suppose that / speculated mucl
upon Marks character in those days; sucf
as he was | loved him, dearly loved him
ah! he would never know how dearly, fol
had not given him up?
As one in dream | went home; as in q
dream | crawled slowly up the steep wind
ing lawn to our cottage; saw Milly hang
ing on the garden gate watching for me-
came flying out into the lawn to meet me,
all her golden hair streaming straight out
behind her, heard her call me, scold Inc for
being late, my own voice answering her
saw and heard all the familiar sights and
sounds of everyday life, as we do sometimes
in dreams, all made strange and perplexins
by some dreadful trouble. q '.' .T
''lIet," said Milly, as we sat at tea, "you'r,
not eating anything; you look pale ant
| glum; you've sat out in those horrid marsh
es till the sun has made you sick. | shal
notallow you to getthere again, mind that
CONCLUSION TOMORROW