The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1867-03-23
Selected story.
From Cassclrs tLondonl Family Paper.
The First Love and the Last

the buds swell and the leaves unfolding, an'
the world made young again by the comlis
ofspring-the story, to which as we listen
our own youth comes back, and the skies az ]:
blue, hearts are beating joyously, anu u :
May. d,v ON
am not young now, neither is , tue roy record
which l am soberly writing TINS nfs sprine or
ANYTHING like it: and yet May co ,I;oi ! a.,
hanIs 70 me nc / recall that day OF WHICH am
going to speak. mn in tbe bIne slsv
a few sheen were pasturng III lne green us
lance. and tall figure dresseu III Sidy, WIN
os'r On his shoulder, and one or two dogs
5sr;s,ing around it, was coming leisurely along
the saa9walI. i had been fully intent but the
rn;nnte before upon the sketch of an old boat
was making: but now L Ielt but the beatip g
of NV heart ard saw nothing but Mark Suth-
erland coming eisurely along the sea-wall
with his dogs playing around him.
The little picture was never finished, for at
the instant that became conscious of the adj
vancing figure, dropped my brush, and ruin
ed my distance by great smear of vandyke
brown, it was never finished, no-but have
it vet and mean it shall be laid beside me in
my coffin.
Was a long way offwhen first saw him
and yet it seemed almost the next instant
that he was standing beside me speaking.-
My heart had not lett off beating and could
feel the color hot in my face as l looked up,
bat my fiery little terrier took exception to his
dogs, and flew at them with tumultuous dis
approval, taking his attention oil Tor the mo-
ment.
When this little fIacas was queted, he put
bis gun on the bank made his retrieyers lie
hns'de it, and sat down himself by me.
F's ~ou had good sport?n l asked. nv
havc w. so,,. "hing-anything
No" he answered., shut cont complain.
didn't expect any. came out here because
l thought 1 should see you, and l wanted to
tell you piece OF news and ask you qaes-
ton"
News is precious commodity, indeed. in
these wilds; but please remember my Scotch
blood, in expecting an answer to the ques-
ton"
He did not seem to be attending to what I
said h, had taken up one OF nv sable brush
es and was absenuy playing with it, hut he
threw it down the next minute and said soft
ly: - r-f.
chester, l have an appointment that |
have been trying for, and shall leave for In
dia next month-thats my news"
NV heart, that had been beating so wildly,
seemed to stand suddenly still, and drop
downtown. The water and the green
marsh rocked, blended haizily into each other,
and the sky, and then voice that sounded
dim and far off but was my own, too, said,
at is good news, suppose"
"GoOd news Well. yes, | hope So"
He stopped minute here. His voice was
a very deem one, for he was a large, broad
chested man; but when he spoke again it had
a soft undertone in it that used to ring in my
ears atterwards-it does now.
II thought it good news this morning, for
without it l could not think of wife. That
troubled me little enough till lately-till all
till knew you, Hester. My dear think you
have guessed my question"
Guessed it! Ay yes. But my face was
down upon my hands; he could not hear the
cry that was sitting in my heart, and he went
on gently, pitessly-
"But shall not get an answer to it sO-
Will you go with me to India?"
did not answer-Icould not. All! those
who have had deliberat ion to kill their own
happiness, to raise up themselves the barrier
that shuts them out from hope, and love, a.,d
lite will know how hard it is-will pity me,
"Will you be my wife, and go with me to
India?"
IL cannot" And no wonder that he made
a sudden movement of surprise, for L myself
wondered TO hear the hoarse passion of my
Gown voice, .u
"You cannot! What fool have been then,
! hoped-I boped-Hester, it possible that
you have not known what have been think
ing of all this timew ..s.
Knowing what he had been thinking about
All! the light and life, and joy of those mo-
ments when l had dared to hope that / did
All! the anguish of feeling now that they had
been in vain!
"LooE at me, Hester" don't think / un
derstand-you, my DEAR" he said patiently
and gently. "YOu say you cannot be my vile
and yet tell me you cannot love me and an
answered at once"
He put his arm over my shoulder as lean
ed forward with my face buried in my lap, an,
whispere.-
81 think you don't love me, Hester"
"Oh, / do, Mark, dol" l cried, lifting m,
head; shut cannot marry you. i shall have
to give you up"
sGive me up, my dear love!' and he held
me closer.
81 cannot go to India"
"Why not?' and he looked half-amazed
halt-amused.
1 could not hear the glance of his kind darl
eyes, shrank away from his arm, and said:
81 cannot leave Milly."
To my own thinking, had pronounced oul
doom now; but Mark Sutherland could laugh
and said
swell, then, you shall not; Miss MilIy shall
60 to-"
',Ah! if that could only be; but MiIly would
die in India. We came home because the elf
mate was killing her."
"And you will not leave her?'
IL promised mamma, before she died, new
er would: that if married it should not separ-
ate us; that my home should be Milly's till she
did not need it, answered l, taltering under
something in the look OF his face that was new
to me. Up to this time L had been thinking o.
myself, ow was reminded that was giving
pain to him.
He was silent two or three minutes, locking
away into the distance. He had taken his hand
from my shoulder.
swell, Hester" said he presently, gravely,
not unkindly, but ali! as it seemed to me,
very cold'y-'you have simply to choose be-
tween your sister and myself You are best
able to judge of your sisters claims upon YOU
of my own, | will only say that love YOU. L
never thought or cared much about women
till saw you, SO am not likely to change my
liking or to forget it; and if you bad married
me-but will not try to plead my cause
against your sisters. IL is for you to decide
and tor me to abide by your decision"
/ looked desperately up to the smiling blue
heavens, at the calm stream flowing on its
tranquil path to the sea, at all the slln-baskinn
peace around me and prayed with PRAYER SO
passionate that it seemed like loud demand
that l might not be forced into Shaving with
my own hands the young happiness of nv
life. II cannot and will not do it., said in
my heart yet knowing at the same time that
! must, and could.
Then Mark spoke again.
Would you like little time to consider
the matter? l need not leave the Holies till
tomorrow evening, or, perhaps the next
day."
NO." L answered-with or without nv own
will never knew. Mknow what must do. ]
cannot leave Milly" M
"And Millycannot go. That decides it, then
Well, l have nothing to say; 1 am the last
man IN the world to try and persuade any one
against their judgment"
He rose deliberately, but did not 90, for |
sat still. Are you going homer" he asked, af
ter amiJiute. "Hester, don't look so sad /; you
are feeling for NEEDN'T do that. | should
like to think OF you when am over the seas
as happy as would have tried to have made
you; think of me sometimes as a friend 7
don't expect to forget you, Hester. Good
bye" -
his hand as he held it out shook ever so
llghtly, but U held mine in firm pressure for
an instant Then he let it drop. STONED and
picked up his gun, whisted his dops around
him, and strobe away again along tbe son
wall, without once turning to look back.
Milly and were both orphans. Our father
and mother had both died in India, and we
were sent home 10 the care our sole relative.
my fathers only sister, an elderly maiden
lady, living in a kind of lady-like poverty at a
dull little village at Kent. Aunt Dolly died
when L was seventeen and Milly twelve, leav-
ing to us the little cottage that had been her
home and ours, with everything it contained
no very valuable bequesr, but all the poor soul
had to leave; and here Milly and mot heir