Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1866-09-08
MOKELUMNE FILL. CALAVERAs COUNTY. CAL,

her humble, but it had just the opposite
effect. 1t nourished secretly bitter,
cynical pride, grudging sense of in
Justice, a hard self-ccntempt-noxious
weeds which do not grow in that sweet
Valley of Humiliation where Bunyan' S
pilgrims walked. and "the herb called
hearts ease fourished
This was just the state-sick of her
self, at odds with the world, yet des-
perately bent on wringing happiness out
of something-in which Jack Brevoort
found her.
He did not love Jean Rathburne-
you are not to suppose that for a mo-
ment. At her brightest and best she
would never have been his style; be-
siaes, little blue-eyed girl, at home in
his mothers nursery, poor cousin,
held so much heart as he had, and was
more to him than any one else ever
would be. But she lacked money just
as entirely as he did, and it is not in
Isuch cases that two negatives make an
affirmative. Of course, he could be
much more dangerous to Miss Rath-
burne's peace than if he had really lov-
ed her, for his GOODNESS would enable
him to take advantage of all openings.
He sorely needed money, and he had
settled it with himself that he must
marry it. He thought fate, which
should, of course, have special kind
ness for the old Brevoort blood, had
placed her in his way on purpose.
He meant to make her in love with
him; so he commenced, like a skillful
tactician, by trying to make her in love
with herself. For the first time she
found herself studied with unmistaka-
Bile interest. He noticed her tastes, and
showed quietly his appreciation of them.
He gave her hints about dress, and she
grew handsome 'rapidly-much to his
satisfaction; for, though he would have
been ready to marry her in any case, it
would be much more agreeable to have
wife who furnished to spectators an
excuse for ones choice in something be-
sides dollars and cents.
1t was not altogether the new colors
that she wore which improved her. A
subtle fame ran through all her veins
and kindled the smouldering fires in
her eyes. Her cheeks were pale no
longer, or her face spiritless When
she looked in the glass she saw what
seemed to her, sn contrast with her
old self. radiant vision. And when
with this new Jean Rathburne Jack
Brevoort began to fall in love it did not
surprise or startle her.
This was the summer of her life
fervid as short; it lasted three mouths
This time only, to her sad, colorless ex-
istence, came happiness!
Brevoort was an ardent lover. lie
was gifted in the art of seeming to
degree amounting to positive genius.
Then Jean was too sturdily honest her
self to doubt the honesty of others, and
too delicatel y generous ever to remem-
ber that she was rich and he was poor
So her summer was warm and bright,
and all her roses bloomed. !.
1t was something to see her in lose
days-her old dead-and alive self no
longer; in its stead sparkling creature,
melting into the unspeakable glory of
love and womanhood. How man who
truly loved her would have delighted
in what Jack Brevoort watched with
the cynicol coolness of Mephistopheles !
He hurried on the preparations for
their marriage when once she had ac-
cepted him. He could not do without
her, he said, longer than fall. 1t was
the truest word he had uttered since he
began his courtship; but the need he
had of her was of a nature he would
not have found it pleasant to communi-
cate, She thought it was the eagerness
of love.
1t was to make some of the arrang
ments which his approaching marriage
rendered necessary that Brevoort went
out of town for couple of days; and
of course, in his character Of impatient
lover, he must write each day to his
betrothed. The first letter-Jean Rath-
burne's first love-letter-was full of
subtly sweet words, tender ph, ases, al
lusions which made her pulses beat fast.
She read it till she knew it by heart,
and then kept reading it over to see if
she had forgotten any thing.
The second she opened with fingers
trembling with expectation. 1t com
menced with "Dear Hal" Her delicate
sense of honor babe her fold it up again,
for she understood at once that it had
been sent to her by mistake. But as
she doubled it over she caught her own
name She would have been more than
woman if she had not read it then.
1t was simply the letter of one fast
young man to another, about betting
and debts and horses 1t shocked her
taste; but she loved him enough to have
excused it but for this passage:
"George can not say that am not making
effort enough to pay him. am to marry
Miss Rathburne in October. Splendid wo-
man as she is, she is not my style-never
would have been. / care more for Nells lit
tie finger. However, man who owes forty
thousand dollars. and has some conscience
still left about paying it. can't very well at
ford to indulge in the luxury of heart.
believe got rid of mine pretty efectually
some time ago"
These were words which no sophis-
try could ever beguile her into forgiv-
ing. Her summer was over. The un-
timely black frost had come.
Who, "Nell' was she did not care,
q L