Sioux City register. [volume] (Sioux City, Iowa) 1858-1871, 1867-06-29
THE STORY OF HER HEART,

THE STORY OF HER HEART.
There are finer sympathies in our natures,
there are true and powerful sensibiIities hid
den under the cold and careless exteriors of
every day life, like the slumbrous volcanic
fires beneath the crust OF the crater, which,
unseen unfsls though they be, mus. and do
break forth in gushes Of generous em otion,
beneath favorable and unusual Influences ;
and thank heaven that it is sol They are
guarantees for our humanity; they show that
eome:hing of the God.liks still animates US
that our hearts are not wholly steeled and
corroded by contact with an evil world.
Thoughts like these could not but brush
through my brain as l sat in the best room
ct the old, familiar farm house, whittier had
lnst been ushered by a domestic, by whom
my impatient nervous stroke upon the old
fash,opcd knOeker was answered The mo-
ment while thus continued alone was filled
with the reflections of years. Of lifetime ;
they went d'zzy'ng through my mind, like
he swift aud startling phenomena Of tho ka
ie'doscope. They were thoughts Of the boy,
who years ago, dwelt beneath the roof OF
this very farm house of his boyish restless.
ness of his wild ombi,ion-of his fare We II
to his old home, and journey to a distant
chy-of his struggles, bis tolls, and his 6na
triumphant snccess; Of The man who had
now returned, for the first time, to this dear
haunt and home,
Scene Of his youth when every charm could please"
bearing name, a fortune, honors and ap-
pause, and (for | wished not to deny it, even
to mysef) a heart.
The s'riies and conteotions Of business
the whirlwind round Of cit- pleasures and
tolies the enviable no,oriety Of my name
oil faded like a brief illusion from my mem
DRY, aud | became, as it were, ono. more a
child. in the midst of my childhood's scenes
Dear, loved spots and faces-how my hear,
yearned to the m again! Twelve years seemed
to have left the place unchanged: its home
aspect was the same, the hills, the fields and
woods around it were all there, and even the
quaint, antique pictures upon the walls and
the ornaments upon the mantlepicce toward
which my childish eye. had wondsrrgly
turned-not one vas changed. Ny heart
throbhed quick and loud tor moment, and
| could have wept out ny excess of feeling.
Yes, !, Ralph Elmure, could have done so.
whom the world chose to call proud, ard cold,
and heart'ess; and my eyes we're dimmed,
for the first time for years.
Blu, this was not all deeper and stronger
than any Of these was the remembrance OF
the little black eyed beauty. Emily Barnard,
my pl"yteiow and constant companion in
childhood, and whose girlish tears at my de-
parture, twelve years before. had not been
forgotten. Strange th, triAcs such "a those
should 'inger 40 long; bn, found ;he hongh,
If Emily Barnard uppermos, in my mind
aud heard my heart beat still quicker as
heard light sep in the passage, and the en-
trance Of the subject Of my thoughts scat :
tered them in an instant.
1t was Emily-I could not be mistaken,
for though she was taller than Of old and
had tho maturity Of woman, both in face
and form, and beauty which her girIhood
had hardly promised, yet there was still that
soft, bright beaming Of the eye, those tell.tale
traces of lurking smile in her features
which would have betrayed her to me among
thousand.
| rose, as she paused, hesitatingly, and
took both her hands, pronouncing, at the
same time, her name:
'Emiy y-EmiIy Barnard ~
"Ibat is my name,' was her puzzled re-
p!v
"And you don't know me, Emily ?"
asked
Something Of my o'd familiar look must
have forced its way through the hardened
and BEARDED face Of manhood, for a pleasan,
smile Of recognition shone out like a sun
beam from her countenance, and she Joy
ously pronounced my name. And with
the impulse of that pleasurabe mousn,-
kissed her; but as bsshfully and bunghngly.
think, az did ever boy Of thirteen.
FIR an hour we sa. there together, and
talked OF the past. was happy, aud should
have been, far it was an hour to watch had
long and anxionsly looked forward Peace
and repose had long been the craving Of nv
heart; At last they were found As we con-
t'nned to converse with the familiarity of
old friends, | fancied ourselves the RALPH
and Emily Of pat years. | told her Of all
the lo"gngs which had struggled, pent up
in my breast for years; aspiration. for the
beautiful and good, VIII always ceutured
IN her. of the fame had won, the success
WHICH had greeted me, since our parting
and Of the one thing wan ting to secure for
ever to me the happiness to which all else
seemed tritlng--the love of one true, woman.
ly heart. ..'. ~-~-~~.,....~
l strove to interpret love from her down.
cast eyes, her quick breatbings, and her
bushes; CT though knew that she admired
and respected me, these did not answer my
prayers. But | received no answer then
the door suddenly opened, and admitted
person, whose face seemed not altogethe
unfamiliar to me, and who now stood awk-
wardly upon the thre.hhnld a. if conscious
of an intrusion. He was handsome youth
of twenty Two or three; aud Emily, rising
in embarrassment, presented him as Mr.