The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1867-02-07


a new and beautiful revelation. Each day
developed something hitherto unsupported
in her nature and he fell to studying her
with that rare intensenes that could only
end in love-
So it went on for two months Harvest
was at hand. Sam and Rusha were mrrried,
in week, some one told Edith cautiously,
and she smiled quietly at the intelligence
she hoped they would be very happy and a
strange peace settled upon her soul as she
said it,
That very night Mr.. Field came for her to
ride. it was Que of those clear bracing eve
nings, in late September, when the roses of
daylight last far into the cleaning and the
whip poor-wills forget that Jnne is dead
and fill the autumn woods with their weird
chaunt The work was all done, so Edith
could go.
They took the river road, and went on
for long time in silence At last Mr..
Field spoke, edith will you think me bold
if ask you personal question p
81 do not think you would be inperti-
Dent," she said softly.
THANK you Your kindness makes me
bold Is it all over with you and Har-
lowe p
Eyes, it is all over" the sigh she uncon
sciously breathed was not one of distress, it
was one Of relief
He bent down and looked her in the face.
1t was not the light of sunset that made it
so rosy for that was quenched in gray
clouds. He drew her suddenly to his side
Edith, dearest, love you shall have
your love p"
The yuordo y,,ara cirnplo ononorh lint tbav
answered their purpose and made her his.
To Edith life wore a new aspect-the
dullness and WEAKNESS were all gone-she
knew, now, why she did not feel regret at
breaking with Sam Harlowe. She wondered
how she had ever managed to live before
the dawn of these days stolen from Eden.
tie left her at the gate-the night shad-
ows were gathering-left her with kisses on
her lips, and the remembrance of his words
lingering like music behind. And she went
up to her chamber to dream such dreams
as never before blest her
1t lasted fortnight, and then the Shadow
fell Edith was ashamed to own it herself
she took severe blame daily for her lack of
faith in Archelaus Field. But how could
she doubt the evidence of her own eyes
A gay company Of city people on their
return from the White Mountains had
stopped for a few days al the Beauvieu
House. at Hillsdale Corner A half dozen
of them charmed with the delightful scene
ry, had remained, and the majority of the
party had gone on without them.
Among those who loitered behind were
Gertrude Ashmead and her mother. She
Gertrude, had all the beauty and bewitch :
ingness of syren. Her golden hair curled
just closely enough to eDsnare mems hearts,
and her blue eyes held them captive Her
voice was sweet as the lips that uttered it
her form a fairy's, and her hands and
feet models of perfection.
She sang, and played and danced, and did
a hundred things that Edith did not do.
Not because Edith had not the capabilities
for learning, but because fate had not Civ
en- her the privilege.
Miss Ashmead and Field were old ac-
quaintences Field was a gentleman the
instinct of his nature taught him to be gen
tie and courteous to all women. Of course
he could do no otherwise than show Miss
Ashmead about the delightful country she
had given up New York society to explore
So it frequently happened that Edith, look
ing up from her work at the rumble of
wheels, saw MIR. Field riding past with the
beautiful stranger by his side.
Once they had come to the farm house
together, Miss Ashmead in her sunny mus
lin robes, with her heavy Indian shawl
trailing over her Notwithstanding out to
see Edith making cheese, in her dark calico
dress. with her hair tucked closely into a
net.
Edith felt, somehow i'll at ease She was
conscious of looking badly for the hard days
work had wearied her and she had risen
with a headache. Perhaps, too some con-
trast i'll their positions struck her painfully
She went out into the spring house for
some water, and Field followed her. But
just then she could not bear to meet him
alone, SO she fled to the kitchen by another
door, and he had to take leave of her in
the presence Of Miss Ashmead. He was
going up the river to be absent five or six
days-going that afternoon. Edith did not
say anything. He looked into her face to
read her heart, an unutterable tenderness in
his eyes, but she did not see it She was
looking at the ground.
He held her hand closely 'Good by,
Edith, regret the necessity for going, but
Stanley refuses to go without me, and the
company are impatient to have the survey
completed. hope you and Miss Ashmead
will manage between you to make the time
pass pleasantly.
So he went away, and left Edith with
strange load at her heart, she could scarcely
have told why
Gertrude rode over the next day, bring
ing her mother with her. Mrs Ashmead
wished to taste some of their new butter
and home made bread, she said. Dick and
Miss Ashmead went out into the orchard for
apples, and Edith was left alone with Mrs.
Ashmead.
81 really am very grateful to Arch, ;" said
that lady, nicely balancing her spoon above
bowl of rich milk, for giving us SO de-
|lightful an acquaintance, Miss Edith He
thinks very highly of you, my dear, and
for that reason, if not for your own worth,
Gertrude would feel bound to cultivate you
She is always so happy to be agreeable to
all Arch's friends"
Edith's heart grew very cold. arch, that
was the name he had Taught her to call him
His mother had called him so, he said, and
since she had died he had not heard that
name from any woman's lips.
''Mr. Field and Gertrude have been all
1no "orlu 10 eacn oCher or Two years,
went on Mrs. Ashmead, closely watching
the unreliable face of Edith, but getting
therefrom no intelligence "but would not
have you ever mention it to him or her for
the world. l oughtn't to have spoken to you
of it, but you, somehow, seem like an old
friend it annoys Gertrude greatly to have
her engagement alluded to out of the fam.
lily. Ny dear Miss Edith, beg of you not
to speak of it ~
Certainly not" Edith said calmly, and
rising, she went to the door. Mrs. Fern
/ leigh was washing the churn.
LET me finish it," Edith said, starting
at the sound of her own voice, and wonder
ing that she was alive to speak. Mrs.
Ashmead wishes to get your receipt for
picking walnuts."