The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1865-07-07
NtttsteQalteous.
THE TWO ANSWERS.
Or, the Noble Resolve.

| "N0, CnarieS,-lt CANNOT De' Aoh iriene
shall respect and esteem you; but ! cannot
be your wife. Have compassion on me, and
do not press me further" ..
Mary Granville stood before me as she thus
spoke. with her hands claspcd, and her head
bowed, trembling like an aspen; and ] fancied
that there were tears in her eyes. She was
q beautiful girl; and l had thought her as
good and pure as she was beautiful, and fur
tber than this, I had believed that she loved
me.
She was on orphan, and had been engaged
during the past year in teaching one OF our
village schools. OF her early life knew
nothing save that she had been we'll educated
und had moved in good society; and had
reason to believe that, at some time, her par
ents had been wealthy; but her father had
failed in business, and it had been told to
me that the sad revcrses killed him. had
known that Mary was poor--that she was
dependent upon her daily labor for support
and the thought that could offer her com.
Portable home. with the advantage Of mod.
crate wealth, had given increase to my pro.
spective happiness. But this unexpected
answer dashed all my bright hopes to the
ground.
"Do you mean, cried vehemently, "that
you thus dismiss me? Am cast Off"
81 cannot be your wife," was the reply.
"Then," said l. with more warmth than |
might have betrayed under other circumstan
ccs, al leave you to yourself, and while |
strive to shake of the love that has bound
me to you'll will only hope that ere you
lead another into your net, you will conclude
beforehand whether you will keep him !"
She gazed up into my face with painful,
frightened look; but did not stop to hear
her speak further. turned and left tho
house.
remarked that under other circumstan.
ces might have been moro cool and collect
ed in my speech; and what do you suppose
dear reader, tho attending circumstances
were? Twill tell you candidly.
Twas little heated with wine. had dram k
just enough to warm my blood, and give my
brain an extra impulse; and my words were
not chosen us should have chosen them had
the spirit of wine been absent. As l walked
towards my home sought to persuade my.
self that had fortunately escaped the snare
of coquette. and that ! might be the bet
ter enabled thus to reason, stopped at the
hotel, where l found fcw Of my compan
ions, and helped dispose Of half dozen bot
ties Of vino.
On tho following morning I awoke with n
headache, and whom called to mind the
events of tho preceding evening | was my
thing but happy. l began to realize how
much had loved Mary Granville. There
was an aching void in my heart, and fairly
wept as I contemplated my loss. 1t was my
FIRST love, and It's influence had penetrated
every fibre of my being. The beautiful girl
had become more dear to me than could
tell, and l groaued in bitter anguish when l
thought that she was lost forever. had re-
solved that would feel very angry and in
dignant but when tho sweet face was called
up to mental view such feelings melted away,
leaving mo sad and desolate.
On the following Sabbath attended church
where saw Mary once more. She played
the organ us she had done for the past year,
and as her fingers swept over the keys. fan.
cied that could detect tremulousness
which had never noticed before. Was IL
only Imagination, or was II really plain.
tiveness--.a sadness in the expression Of her
music? r . IT,.
To me It seemed at times as though the or
gan moaned and wept. TWAS like the wall.
ing Of the daughters Of Zion BY the rivers Of
Babylon. 'tl t-' 'i '
When tho services were over and We went
out from church saw Mary's face. 1t was
pale and wan as though she had been sick.
What could II be2 Was she suffering us
had sufferod2 The thought flashed upon me
that someone might have told her something
TO my disadvantage. ! had enemies in the
village, enemies who cnvied me because had
inherited some wealth; and I fancied cne-
mics who envied mo the love Of Mary Gran.
vile. ,...
Another week passed and became more
sad and lonesome. Ny business was irksome
to me. and my books and papers afforded me
no respite. In fact, I could not read, for my
mind was never upon the page before me.
Another Sabbath at church, and saw Mary
again. II seemed to mo that she was palcr
than before, and her eyes looked US though
she had boon weeping.
During tho succeeding week received a
visi, from my old college chum, Jack Stanton,
who hadjust opened a law ofico in Borryvillc.
Alter supper, Us wo sat in our cosy parlor
smoking our cigars, I suggested that bot
tlo Of wine would not go smiss. Jack shook
his head.
"No, Charlie" he said. "We'll leave
the wine for those who need It,"
You used to drink It. Jack" i.H io NJ
eyes, but u never did me any good"
"And do YOU think Il ever did YOU any