The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1866-10-05

HOl tdIucl was lne WedllnreSu man IN Der
ryville, and she and her brother were
among the happiest of the happy.
''Mr. Granville was in the habit O
drinking wine, and the evil habit grew
upon him until lie could not 90 without
his brandy.
''He was of social disposition, and il
time 1t came to pass he was often glossy
intoxicated. OF course, under such cir
cumstances, one of two things must hap
pen-the man must reform or must sink.
Mr.. Granville did not reform, and ere
many years he died drunkard's death,
leaving his family in poverty and suffer
ing.
"Thomas, the son-four years older
than Mary-became dissipated, and at
the age Of eighteen was killed in street
fight in New York. Mrs. Granville sur
vived her son but few months-abso-
lutely dying, as the doctor said, of a
broken heart
''Poor Mary, thus left fatherless and
motherless, without brother or sister, at
the age of fifteen, was forced to earn the
bread she ate-and nobly has she done it.
IT you know her, Charley, you know one
OF the noblest women that ever lived.
But what's the matter? Why, bless me,
you are as pale as q ghost
| struggled hard with myself, and told
Jack that | had swallowed lot of cigar
smoke. | arose, and opening one of the
easements, stepped out from the balcony,
where the fresh air restored me.
AT late hour Jack departed for the
hotel, and when | had retired to my
chamber paced to and fro until long
after midnight. | could no longer mis-
understand the motive which had actuateCl
Mary in rejecting my hand. She knew
that was in the habit of using wine, and
on that evening, when we met. she must
have discovered that | had drank enough
to bring false flush to my cheek.
''Oh, my God.' l calculated, as
sank into a chair, 81 wonder not that
she refused to place her future life in my
keeping. She has suffered enough from
the accursed cup. The night of sorrow
ana desolation has been long upon her.
She would be worse than mad to take a
husband whose opening path in life led
toward the pit in which the loved ones of
other days had fallen. But ! asked
myself; ''why did she not tell me the
whole truth !'
l found no difficulty in answering the
question. She had shrank from wound
ing my feelings. | knew how sensitive
she was, and | knew size was afraid .!
offending me. Perhaps she thought me
proud and headstrong enough to resist
such liberty on her part, and perhaps shc
Imagined | might look upon hen as offer
Ing her hand in consideration of renounc-
ING the wine cup, and that l might spurl
her offer
On Friday night Jack :S>..aanton left me,
and on Saturday evening l called at Siis.
Mary's clearinghouse. Mary hersel
answered my summons. She startec
when she saw me, and l saw her righ
hand move quickly toward her heart.
MARY" l said, speaking calmly, for
had mighty strength of will to supper
me, Il have not come to distress you;
have come as friend, and humbly asl
that you will give me audience for few
moments"
She went into the parlor and | followed
her, closing the door behind and whel
we were alone, she put the lamp ON th
table and motioned me to a seat.
No. said |, II will not sit down yet
Give me your hand, Mary"
Mechanically she put forth her hands
and | took them in my own. There wa
4 wondering look il. her eyes, and Il sligh
flush came to her pale checks
MARY l continued, speaking slowl
and softly, and | know that moisture wa
gathering in my eyes, you must answe
me one question. Answer it as yo
please, and take my solemn assurance tha
l ask it only for your good. Tell me, d
you love me! No, no-do not take you
hands away yet. Answer me if you car
Fear not for | had rather 90 into end
less night than do you wrong. Tell me-
Mary, do you love me %
Il cannot speak falsely" she tren
5lingly whispered, ''for my own peac
perhaps love you too we'll"
''Listen to me for one moment" / ado
ed, drawing her nearer to me; ''when
have told you That which | have to tel
you shall be the judge"
She did not strive to free her hand
, but looked up eagerly in my face, and he
eyes beamed with a hopeful light.
'You know Jack Stanton % said.
eyes," she replied.
''He was my best friend when we wei
at college, and my friendship has NJ
grown less He came to see me, and tol
, me the trials and sufferings of one of IL
schoolmates Of his earlier days.
e "Oh, Mary, | know well why my han
was refused, and | blame you not.
may be that our paths will be differel
, through life, but you shall at least kno
that he whom you have loved will so Ii,
that he shall not be unworthy of 20,
r kindest remembrance. / know that
$ have hitherto wandered into the paths
Y danger, but henceforth 1 am free from Il
e dread snare. Under the new light tn
has dawned upon me l hold the wine C,
to be fearful enemy. would shun
as l would shun a shameful Life and
: clouded death-bed. For my own sal
e will | do this, SO that my sainted mothe