The New era. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1865-1871, 1865-11-09

Nobody knew where sweet Miss Amy
had gone. The girls said that the post
man brought her a letter that made her
weep, and moan a. size read it, but that
as soon as She recovered she commenced
preparations for removal. dismissing her
Work-women, and selling nearly every
thing. And in two or three DAYS she
went away, and never told ANYBODY
where She WIS gong.
That WAS all that he could learn. The
empty rooms were before him, the SYM
pathizing faces Of the inhabitants Of the
house. who all fell for his evident disap-
pointment and grief, hut could tell him
nothing OF Amy, since the hour when
she went alone from its doors. That she
gone-lost-was all that he comprehend
ed. lie entered the rooms, and desiring
to be left alone wandered through them,
Eainly hoping that somewhere he might
find some token of Amy. And outside,
the woman whom he had first seen,
whispered to the little group that stood
around: Poorgentleman heWas Miss
Amy's lover.and used often to becoming
to see her. And then they all dispers-
ed unwilling to disturb further his ter
rible sorrow.
Arthur remained an hour in these de-
serted apartments, and then came forth
to commence search for the lost one,
that extended over years, and always
vainly. From that day, till the day of
his death, no tidings of Amy Lincoln
reached his ears. Her very existence
seemed blotted out, and to him the
world seemed henceforth a vast blank,
and life hopeless, joyous conflict.
I - !,
ing after Arthur's departure on his visit
to Uncle Godwin's, ANY sat amidst her
Workwomen, busily engaged in her taste
ful aNocation. There was slight shadow
upon her fair brow, and an observer
might have detected traces of the tears
she had shed Oh parting from her lover,
i'll the slight redness yet lingering about
her blue-veined eyelids. But she spoke
and acted With her usual cheerfulness,
and her emotion was not visible to the
eyes around her.
The well-known knock of the post
man was heard at the door-there was
slight hustle among the little group of
girls as tho letter was handed in. Then
they We're all so absorbed, some in their
letters, some in wondering explanations
at receiving none, that for several min,
utes no one observed Amy. She had
grown very pale as she read. She re-
placed III its envelope as she finished,
and rising up, movee toward the door of
her own room, Before she reached it
Low moan burst from her lips, and She
sunk down fainting upon the floor.
They raised her up and laid her upon
her upon her bed. The usual restora-
tives soon revived Der, and then on her
desiring to be left alone, the wondering
group dispersed. She lay fortWo efthree
boufs, with bright, fearless eyes, some
times reading the letter she had receiv-
ed, then falling into painful thought.
\ terrible struggle was evidently going
on i'll her mind. At length it was de-
cided. She rose from her bed, and COM
menced her preparations for departure.
IN three days ali was complete, and Amy
disappeared, leaving ne trace behind,
10 guide one she knew would seek her.
That was all that was known of her,
and all that Arthur could ascertain, but
we, using the story-tellers privilege of
diving into the heart of mysteries, will
read the letter that caused this sudden
determination of Amy Lincoln to lose
herself in the ways of life. 1t was writ
ten thus:
Ny son, Arthur Fairham, has been
fascinated by your pretty face, and has
ltaTlltu uiSoDtUlclCc ana ulSTeSpGCl 10
his mother. Lured on by arts, he is de-
termined to rush into a degrading mar
riage. What | have said to him has
proved unavailing, and l now address
myself to you. Your motiNei is, ofcourse,
apparent. You think your lover is rich,
and by means Of his wealth to rise to a
position for which you We're never de-
signed. Your hopes have no basis Ar
thur has nothing. His fathers will gave
me entire control Of all his wealth. and
if he marries you, he shall never receive
one dollar, one anything that can
come between him and starvation. Look
you, girl, YOU will not raise yourself, but
will degrade him. He knows nothing
Of business, and is far too frail in health
to encounter hardslips. You love him!
Will you condemn him 10 such a fate ::
Viii YOU share such a fate with him:
:. II not-and | think one so prudent
will decide as | wish-leavc the city,
esrasing all traces of your intended
home; even and above all from him.
But AS soon as you have decided upon
another residence, and reached it, write