Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1866-07-28
did not believe it. pitied him frou
my heart l pitied him.

did not believe it. pitied him frou
my heart l pitied him.
Perhaps it is not true, aunt? ? I said
Not true! why she writes it to MT
herself-there's her letter.
looked at him now. He was pale al
death, but very firm. Neither troubled
look nor quivering lip gave token of The
cruel storm within. Something nov
called my aunt out of the room.
Augusta, may l look at it? ht
asked, glancing toward the letter, which
my aunt had handed to me.
could not refuse him. I gave him
the letter. He read it through with the
same composure, then looking for biz
umbrella, which he aoould always keeE
in corner of the sittingsroom, he said
very calmly:
1 think I shall go and take walk.
And be went out, and we saw him
no more till the next morning, when he
left US.
Ny aunt was disappointed to find that
MIR. Thompson had not proposed to me
after all, and [ was hurt to the hearts
core by the coldness of his anieu. My
value had gone down with my cousin {
faithlessness; mine had been at the
bet but reflected light. 1 was liked
because Jessie was loved
She became Mrs Norris soon after
this. She was married from my aunt's
house, out of regard to Mr. Norris, who
was related to her, and who disliked
Mrs. Gray. That busybody,' he called
her, and | am afraid she was busybody
Jessie was very bris sht, and seemed very
happy. She teased me numerically
about Mr.. Thompson. She was sure she
said, be had made love to me, and she
looked at me with cruel significance al
spoke. But l betrayed neither his Sc
cret nor mine and though she vexed
me when she quizzed him to Mr.. Norris
especially about his umbrella, 1 did keer
silent.
Il am sure he will be married with
his umbrella under his arm,' she said
the evening before her own wedding
Don't you think SOP
did not answer her; I went out In
to the garden, and wondered how she
had charmed him. Alas l might have
wondered, how, without seeking it, he
had charmed me.
Jessie's marriage was blow to my
aunt. She had always thought I should
60 of. first. She was also cruelty dis.
lappointed by Mr.. Thompson's indiffer
ence, and perhapss she guessed the mean
ing of my altered looks. l believe I ugoI
pale and thin just then. And WAS
always playing Chopsn's march.
My dear, said aunt to me one even
ing, lis not that very mournful 2
4 like it, aunt l replied; but I re-
solved to play it no more.
'Mr. Thompson liked it, she said
with sigh. Il wonder he did not pro
pose to you,' she said abruptly.
| was mute.
L wish l had never asked him here,
she resumed; 4 cannot help thinking
Don't, pray don't J I interrupted.
She did not insist, but she made INT
90 and sit by her. She caressed me, she
coaxed me, and little by little she drew
my secret from me.
My poor darling she said, when
had confessed all, 'he may value yor
yet
'No, aunt, he never will. But pray
do not trouble about me. mean to gel
over it. and l will
l spoke resolutely, and my aunt
praised me.
you have always been the best Of
girls, she said tenderly, 'and 1 am glad
you have had confidence in me. l die
not mean to leave home this year; bu
now I will take you to the seaside
You must have change, my poor dar.
ling
She kissed me, and | remember how
calm and happy 1 felt in that gray room
sitting by my dear aunt's side and look
ing at the starry sky. The nightingale
was singing again as on that sad evening
when | had felt so broken b earted tear,
rose to my eyes when l remembered it
and his last kindness, and my foolish
withered hopes; but the bitterness wal
gone from my SORROW.
you must have change said my
aunt again.
Alas! the change came with the morn
ing. My aunt was late for break fast
| went up to her room and found hel
calmly sleeping. But oh too calm, toe
deep, we're those slumbers The kind
eyes which had rested on me in love
we're closed, the voice which had evel
spoken in praise and endearment was
silenced, for ever and ever.
{ Concluded neat aceek.)
4