The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1865-08-31
VOLUME 26.

alb till knew you, Hester. My dear, l
think you have guessed my question:
Guessed it I! All ! yes. But my face was
down upon my hands; he could not hear the
cry that was sitting in my heart, and he
went on gently, pitilessly-
But shall not get an answer to 1t So.
Well then, Hester, will you marry me
Will you go with me to India ?
| did not answer-I could not. All
those who have had deliberately to kill
their own happiness, TO raise up themselves
the barrier that shuts themselves out from
hope, and love, and life, will know how hard
it is--wiIl pity me.
will you be my wife, and go with me to
India p
4 cannot And no wonder that he made
a sudden movement Of surprise, for myself
wondered to hear the hoarse passion OF my
own voice.
You cannot What a fool l have been,
then. thought hoped-Hester, is it
possible that you have not known what l
have been thinking Of all this time !?
Known what he had been thinking about
All the light, and life, and joy of those
moments when had dared to hope that
did All ! the anguish of feeling now that
they had all been in vain
Look at me Hester. don't think | I'M
derstand-you, my dear, he said patiently
and gently. You say you cannot be my
wife, and yet-tell me you cannot love me.
and am answered at once
He put his arm over my shoulder as
leaned forward, with my face buried in my
lap, and whispered
i think you do love me- Hester
oh, do, Mark, | do 2 | cried, lifting my
head; but l cannot marry you. | shall
have to give you up
Give me up, my dear love !! and he held
me closer.
4 cannot go to India
why, not {? and he looked half amazed,
| half amused
could not bear he glance of his kind,
dark eyes, shrank away from his arms
and said
4 cannot leave Milly.'
To my own thinking, I had pronounced
my doom now; but Mark Sutherland only
laughed, and said =
Well then you'll not; Miss Mile shall
go too
'Ah if that could only be; but Mile
would die in India. We came home be-
cause the climate was killing her.
And you will not leave her 2
Ipromised mamma, before she died. that
I never would; that if married it should not
separate us; that my home should be Milly's
till she did not need it, answered faltering
under something in the look of his face
that was new to me. Up to this time had
been thinking Of myself; now l was remin-
ded that was giving pain to him.
1 L L.
ing away into the distance. He had taken
his hand from my shoulder.
We'll, Hester" said he presently, gravely
! not unkindly-but alb! as it seemed to me,
very coldly-you have simply to choose be-
tween your sister and myself. You are best
able to Judge of your sisters claims upon
you; of my own, | will only say that Hove
you. l never thought nor cared much
about women till | saw you, SO | am not
likely to change my liking or to forget it /;
and if you had married me-But [ will
not try and plead my cause against your
sisters. 1t is for you to decide, and for me
to abide by your decision
looked desperately up to the smiling
blue heavens, at the calm stream flowing on
its tranquil path to the sea, at all the sun
basking peace around me, and prayed, with
a prayer so passionate that it seemed like a
loud demand, that might not be forced in
to Staying with my own hands the young
happiness of life. 4 cannot and will not do
it., L said in my heart; yet knowing the
while that must and could
Then Mark spoke again.
Would you like a little time to consider
the matter? | need not leave the Hollies till
tomorrow evening, or, perhaps the next
day
No. answered-with or without my
own will, | never knew. & know what
mnst do. | cannot leave MiIly.'
and Milly cannot go. That decides it,
then. Well, have nothing to say, l am
the last man in the world to try and per-
suade any one against her Judgment
| He rose deliberately, but did not go, for
| sat still.
Are you going home ? he asked after a
minute. Hester, don't look so sad; you
are feeling for NEEDN'T do that. | should
like to think of you when | am over the
seas; as happy as | would try to make you.
Think of me sometimes as friend. don't
expect to forget you, Hester. Goodbye
His hand, as he held it out shook ever so
slightly, but it held mine in firm pressure
E for an instant. Then he let it DROP stopped
and picked up his gun, whistled his dogs
around him. and strobe away again along
the sea-wall, without once turning to look
back.
Mily and l were 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 dull little village in Kent
Aunt Collv died when | was seventeen and
Milly twelve, leaving to US the little cottage
that had been her home and ours, with ev-
: erything that it contained; no very valua-
BILE bequest, but all the poor soul had to
leave; and here Milly and mot heiresses,
no, but not destitute, either-continued to
! live with the dear old servant who + I'd been
!, our aunts faithful friend and companion,
, and our own kind and affectionate nurse
ever since, fatherless and motherIess, we
had been sent to England.
I'll There were not many people to visit at
: Hillstead. The rector, the doctor and the
y family at the Hollies comprised them.
think We were the most intimate at the
, Holies; for the children there were Mily's
contemporaries, and her sworn admirers anC
/: friends. [ first saw Mark Sutherland a,
e the Hollies; ne was Mr.. Sutherland's cousin
I and had often heard of him before l saw
! him. He had led a wild, adventurous kline
of life, wandering all over the world for hi
n simple pleasure, | suppose, since neve
, heard that he had any other object in doing
! so, had formed my idea of him; to be sure
the reality was not in the least like it. No
quite otherwise, and yet, after the first fiv,
3 minutes, l would not have changed the rea
man for the ideal for worlds,
j Do not suppose that | speculated muct
upon Marks cl aracter in those days, sucl
t as be was | loved him, dearly loved him
r all he would never know how dearly, 10
had not given him up?
/ AS one in a dream went home; as in
p dream crawled slowly up the steep winding
n lawn TO our cottage, saw Milly hanging OF
]. the ranr, l.:,.c FL. n y