Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1866-01-05

before him; but in her ears rang the
parting words, as her eyes swept his
grave features and tall figure.
There was the usual amount of dane
ing, music, small-talk aud flirting; and
the gay assemblage broke up in :" wee
sma'" hours.
" Aunt Martha" and Helen drew her
hostess down on the sofa. Don't yawn
one minute before we go to bed. Who
is Coleman Lee ?"
-"Qne Of the most distinguished law.
YES Der, 1862.
'ot- Married 2"
No. Now don't breathe it, Nell, il
| tell you. He had disappointment
+" When 2"
"Oh, ever so long ago. He was one
of Laura Holman's most devoted admir-.
ers. You did not know her she mar
ried old Walcombe, and went to Paris.
She fiirted with everybody; but we all
thought Coleman Lee had won her. -
Certainly she encouraged him, but some
how she had heard a story about some
country girl he was engaged to when he
came from the country but when his
uncle died and left him wealth, of course
he gave up all his old connexions.
Laura, however, heard something, and
refused him. He has been grave, re-
served, and almost reclusc ever since.
Only week after she sent him off bis
uncle died, and he heard the death of his
father. Three such blows in one week
were enough to make any one solemn for
awhile but he has surely had time to
recover in four years"
+" Yes, one would think so;" and the
beauty sauntered up stairs to bed.
:" So, this is the secret of my rejec-
tion," she murmured, as she nestled
down in the soft pillow; che loved
another, and that other refused him.
Perhaps he may meet like fate again. "
1t was no easy task for Helen Curtis
to win the man wIose love had been
hers in past years. 1t was difficult to
meet him, for he was absorbed in his
professional duties and cared but little
for society, and the first interviews were
hard to gain. Then she met him every
where and it was not long before she
knew that, as of old, her smile was the
sunshine Of his life. With pitiless resolu-
ton she drew him to her side. Every
art that dress could give her wonderful
beauty she called into play; all the
finish of manners her travels had bestow.
ed, she kept in graceful play before his
eyes for him she unfolded the cult
waited intellect, till he was bewildered
by her varied information and brilliant
conversation; her rich voice poured forth
its choicest song for him and, day by
day, she folded around his heart new
garlands of love and admiration. But
while at first her aim was to punish, as
the game progressed, she too, began to
find mines of uDsuspected worth and
cultivation. Every interview strengthen
ed her conviction that this man with ex-
banded mind, and heart contracted by
the blow of a disappointed love, was not
the boy who bad hidden her farewell on
the moonlit porch eight years before.
She was sitting alone in the parior
one evening, letting her fingers stray
over the ivory keys of the grand piano
bringing out little snatches of melody,
ripping variations, or brilliant preludes,
as only praticed fingers can produce
them in idle moments Suddenly she
swept the keys with a few rich chords,
and began to sing Her voice filled the
large rooms, as she poured out the full
clear notes, till slowly chording, she
sank the strain into German song, in
the minor key, wall of forsaken love,
infinitely touching as she sang it with
tender expression and patbos.
She heard the door open, step cross
the room, and knew that Coleman Lee
stood beside her /: but she sang on till the
song was finished, then turned to face him
Without one word to break the abrupt
torrent, be told her Of his love, bending
down to catch the expression of the
face dropping to avoid his eye. One part
Of the tale she had not hoped to hear.
Humble in his great love, be told her of
the village girl who bad won his boyisb
passion--of the firt who had spurned
the manly love Of early manhood. He
barred his heart to her, and she read how
sin and sorrow bad purified and ennobled
him, and as she listened, the dream of
revenge, which had filled her heart, was
swept aside by his eloquence.
+" Coleman" she said, as he paused,
=" do you remember when you and Helen
we're meeting one October day, years
ago, how she fell and cut her forehead,
and how you kissed the wound to soothe
her sobs, and bound it up with her
handkerchief?
He only gazed at her in amazemeut.
Do you remember 2" she asked.
" Yes, -but-
See," she said raising the soft curls
from her temple, and placing her finger
on the scar, years later you wounded
her heart more sorely than the hard
stone had wounded her face"
oh, Helen can you forgive me 2"
"Ah !" she sighed, smiling on him,
" only your kiss can heal the heart wound
as in those childish days your touch
brought comfort"