Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1866-05-24

one heard him, fortunately-tbe attention
4 being directed IN another direction. He
looked about to see why he friends OF Miss
| Marshall did not take her away, and pre-
vent her condition from being so publicly
proclaimed. Then he remembered that she
had told him, earlier In the evening, that
her mother was prevented, by q severe
headache, from acting as their chaperone,
but that her cousin Annie and herself had
come together in the carriage, and the
coachman was to call for them at one
| o'clock. He saw Annie, standing, like
himself, O. little apart from the crowded
/ circle, gazing at her cousin with a sort of
fascinated, intensely riveted stare, as if too
much astonished to move OR speak. Her
eyes never left their fixed, singular gaze
upon the face of the girl, who now provoked
a fresh burst of lIerrment, by taking off
the pyramid Of macaroons, shaking it, and
setting it back saucily on her head, after
the manner Of clowns at the circus; then
drawing her face down to the intensest
gravity, asking if she did not resemble Mr..
| Thornton.
"My God if that had been my rife -
| He caught his breath, as if cold water had
/ been dashed over him.
Then and there, il his heart, he disowned
any further acquaintance with Miss Mar
shall. That beautiful face would have
tempted some men to forgive almost any
fault, but he could not forgive Making his
way to Miss Kirkland, he spoke rather
! sternly:
"Why do you not get your cousin out of
| the rooms, Annie? Persuade her to 60 UP
stairs, if possible"
son, Mr. Thornton, replied she, turning
! toward him that dark, peculiar face, which
he had never liked, Z" L was so overcome, [
! didn't know what to say or do. What waU
her mother say when she hears Of it? She
uever liked to trust her out alone; but to-
night she was bent upon coming because
yow we're to be here, suppose), and this is
the consequence! with an air Of great
distress.
"You'do not mean to say that Helen is
in the habit"
ono; oh, ro did not intend-I would
not, for the world, be the first to awaken
your--oh, dear what am saying? Yes,
Mr.. Thornton, | will coax ner up to the
dressing room"
At that moDent Miss Marshall put her
hand to her forehead with bewildered air;
the spectators thought it part of the per-
Torrance, but she stepped down from the
pedestal, removed her crown Of sweets, and
pressed forward to her cousins side.
"Annie, what have | been doing2 ?"
Amusing your friends, Helen; shall we
go up stairs!"
She answered with o laugh so silly that
Thornton turned away from the vacant,
foolish countenance, with disgust too deep
for words
Annie took her by the arm and hurried
her up to the dressing room, where she
sunk into a stupid slumber upon the bed,
from which che was WITH difficulty aroused
when the carriage was announced. The
hostess herself came up and he ped her on
with cloak and hood, summoned MIR. hole
0yl to conduct the ladies TO their carriage,
ana cid what she could 10 conceal the Ia
mentable state OF the young lady. But Cos
sip had seen enough, and 100 much. Miss
Marshall was the Tav0rite topic the rest Of
that night, aud for the next nine days
The name which had been spoken only with
admiration and respect, was mentioned IN
that blasting whisper which withers what
ever feminine reputation IL brea hes upon.
Mr.. Thornton was obliged 10 hear great
deal more than he wished. Any alluslon TO
the subject in his presence made him wrlthe
with hidden pain, until he ceased TO go out,
combining himself to his business or his
boarding house.
A fortnight passed, and he had not yet
called upon Miss Marshall to give her q
formal release from their engagement. He
could not; he was tortured by love more
tran pride When he tried to call up con-
tempt 10 wrestle with affection, he could
only picture her as On ihe evening OF their
betroJhal, giving herself to him regally,
cIfl.
the reserve Of the purest maidenly dignity.
From that later vision of the ylne-crowned
revel, he turned away with shudderings.
Oae morning he received a note, directed IN
the hand he knew so well; it was brief
request from his atianced that he would call
on her that afternoon at four o'clock. lie
determined to 60, and make this the oppor-
runity for severing the tie between them.
At four o'clock ne was ushered into Mrs.
MarshalPs parlor Helen was alone. She
arose to her feet when she heard him enter,
and came toward him. Her face was pale,
and her eyes showed that she had been
weeping,
"You, too, Ernest believe it !"
The sad reproach of her voice made his
own tremble AT that moment as he looked
as her, she seemed his own Helen again
the ineomparably best and most noble
woman he ever had beheld. His glance fell
before her mournful, searching gaze; he felt
as if he were the guilty party instead Of she.
'If you refer to that unhappy evening at
Mrs hoie Oyfs party, Helen, how can
doubt the evidence Of my senses
. By trusting the evidence of your soul,
Ernest You have said, that in soul and
spirit we were one. We're the words idle /!
They must have been--falsG and idle--or
you would not have turned from me at the
first appearance of fault. Do you know,
for all this long, wretched fortnight, | never
dreamed what kept you from me | never
guessed the story which my friends were de-
lighting over. | saw that something was
wrong; | questioned my mother, annie,
others; but found no one cruel and kind
enough to tell me, until Miss Wilkes called
here yesterday. She is never ayerse 10
hurting peoples feelings. Some remarks
she dropped caused me to ask her TO oblige
me by telling me what actually occurred
wrong at Mrs kole Oyfs, and she laughed
maliciously, and inquired if really didsnot
know that the story went that was drasak
there--that | made q terribly silly spectacle
of myself Tel me, Ernest, is it sol"
"Eou certainly behaved very strangely,
Helen--in u manner entirely contrary 10
your usual character"
Yes, she told me--that stood up on
chair aud made speeches-that | riuiculed
every one. herself among the rest. Well
Ernest, yoa, TOO. believed me intoxicated!"
1 No words could describe the pathcs of re-
proach with which she uttered the last sen
fence. 81 tell you, truly, that l did moi
touch wine, nor any beverage except cup
/ OF coffee, en- that evening. Ay since my
] friends are so easily persuaded Of my eylL