Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1866-06-07
VOLUME XVII.


edly good-looking, and he was both shrewd
and pleasant but he had quaint and alb
rubt manner, which was apt to startle
strangers. liked it well, however. !
liked that eccentricity which never took
him too far, and that slight want of polish
which gave flavor to everything he said or
did. liked ALL excepting his umbrella.
That | detested. 1t was large, massive and
dreadfully obtrusive He had it in his
hand on that bright warm day, and long
as our acquaintance lasted never saw Mr..
Thompson without it. Later, when our in
timacy had progressed, taxed him with
this. Yes" he said good-humoredly, 81
confess it is my hobby. My earliest am
bltion as boy was to possess an umbrel-
la, and my greatest happiness as man is
to go about with one"
OF course, we did not speak about his
umbrella on this the first morning we spent
together. Mr.. Thompson praised my mu-
sic, and looking me full in the face, told
me played divinely He said it without
preamble, and | saw he meant it. My aunt
was delighted, and | felt pleased but,
somehow or other, | also felt that Mr.
Thompson treated me like a little girl; and
SO he did, not merely then, but even after
wards. Tiresome man had thought him
old before l saw him, and could not make
him think me old now that he saw me-
Mr.. Thompson did not stay week with
US, but month. 0, that happy month,
with long golden days and delicious even
| ings, and music and sweet converse shall
| ever forget it If the Weakening was bit
| ter let me remember that the dream was
very sweet.
! Mr.. Thompson was to leave US next morn
/ ing, and we were in the garden together.
| knew by this time how | felt towards
hm and kind though he was, l doubted
| if he cared much for me. And when he
said, Augusta, have something to say to
you," my heart began to beat He used to
call me Augusta now and then, having
known me as a child but never had he
said it so kindly as this evening.
All, we'll | suppose many women have
to go through the bitterness which came to
me then. Mr.. Thompson had met my cous-
in Jessie at Mrs Gray's, proposed to her,
and been accepted From the moment he
mentioned Jessie's name knew my fate
Without seeking it, | suppose, she had ever
stood between me and every good. She
had taken the friendship of my best friend,
the liking of my nearest relative--I was
not really my aunts niece, orly her late
husband's-and row she had forestalled
me in the love Of the only man | had ever
cared for. Surely she was not to blame in
that, but, 0, how hard how very hard, 1t
seemed to me? The nightingale sang in
the trees above US, pure, brilliant stars
burned in the sky, the garden was full of
fragrance, and Mr.. Thompson went on pour
ing Jesses praises in my ear She was so
handsome, so bright, SO genial, and so de-
lightfully innocent And what do you sup
pose he told me all this for Why, because
he wanted me to go and live with them
My Aunt's health had been failing of late,
and he was aware that | knew the worst
might soon come, so he wanted me to be
sure of a home | burst into tears
"My dear, good child" he cried warmly,
elf were not going away, | would not
have grieved you SO. You have. | know,
true, warm heart Your dear aunt may live
for years only, if she should not, Jessie
and /"
"Pray don't!" interrupted l could not
bear it. The more he praised me- the kind
er he was, the more | wept and felt miSera-
ble. At length, at my request, he left me.
| grew calmer after while, and went in.
"Do play Chopin's march for us, my dear"
said my aunt Poor. dear aunt she wanted
me to fascinate him to the last. She little
knew that Jessie, whom she disliked So had
been beforehand with me there.
Iplayed it again. 1t was the knell of all
my hopes A gray twilight filled the room,
and they could not see the tears which
flowed down my checks | played well,
they said and | believe | did Something
from myself was in the music that evening
was very sorrowful Mr. Thompson came
and sat by me when Il had done The servant
brought in the lights and a letter for my
aunt While she was reading it, he said,
softly
" You will think over it."
Pray don't" | entreated
"But you do not know how much like
YOU" he insisted 'and then you will do
my little needless Jessie good--poor child
ish darling Besides, have set my heart
on something"
This crowned all. | guessed his mean
ing he had younger brother for whom
he meant me- lie had all but said SO this
evening in the garden. " 1t would do John,
who was rather light, all the good in the
world" l could not bear it. | rose and
went up to aunt
w hat news, aunty {" asked.
News, indeed !" she replied, amazed
There's Jessie going to marry my cousin,
Mr. Norris, old enough to be her father |
wonder what he will do with the little
fHt ?"
There was pause.
Mr. Thompson came forward. l did not
dare to look at him.
"What Jessie is that 2" he asked. Sure
ly not Miss Raymonds cousinW
Yes the same Do you know herr"
al have seen her at Mrs. Gray's"
He spoke very calmly | suppose he did
not believe it. Ipitied him from my heart
pitied him.
perhaps it is not true !" said.
Not true why she writes to me her
self--there's her letter"
looked at him now He was pale as
death, but very firm. Neither troubled
look nor quivering lip gave token Of the
cruel storm within. Something now called
my aunt out Of the room.
Augusta, may look at it ?" he asked,
glancing towards the letter, which my aunt
had handed me-