The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1868-04-25

:. or other. And she's sucA FOOL
But Mr.. Peck was mistaken in thu
last estimate. Elsie Miller was no foo
Gervase Cotton heard the story
Miss Miller's go,d fortune in silence:
Il an glad you told me-" he said t
his informant, Squire Dalton. " | wa
going there this evening, to ask Elsie i
she would accept a home at my hands.
"Do you mean. marry you = de
manded tile straightforward squire.
a." Certainly y-ot course
MY dear boy, you couldn't do ;
more sensible thing You'll! have the
richest wife and the prettiest wife ir
town, and always thought that ittlt
Elsie fancied you. Go, by all means
"Neverr" said Gervaise, empha. ical
lly.
| Hallo!" cried the squire, dropping
| the red silk handkerchief that he was
hourishing about, and staring fixed]y at
the handsome young man opposite him
Il would sooner cut my right hand
off than give people occasion to call me
a fortune hunter said Cotton, with a
quiet determination, that made his mouth
look like iron, his brows like adamant
"Gammon !" said the Squire, rather
uncourteously ;" didn't you just tell me
you were about to propose to her, under
the impression that she hadn't a penny
in the world p
"Yes, [ told YOU so, and it was the
truth-but it would be rather difficult to
convince the world in general of it,
"Oh, bother the world in general !
What do you care for it's verdict one
way or the other?'
But Cotton shook his head.
Il have striver all my life long to be
an honorable gentleman" said he, calm
ly-'' nor shall | allow the shadow of
shade to dim my character now. / love
Elsie Miller as truly and tenderly as
man can love, but [ will not submit to
be called heiress -hunter!'
"But, my dear boy, please reflect
that the days of Don Quixote are over.
Nobody will appreciate the sacrifice you
are making and Elsie herself will pro-
badly marry some calculating miscreant
or other, who won't make half so good
a husband to her as you would have
done"
Grrvaise Cotton remained obstirately
unconvinced, however, and the Squiie's
eloquence was utterly thrown away.
And littlo Elsie? How she marvel
led at Gervaise's altered manner-at his
cold constraint and distant politeness
what scalding tears she cried into her
midnight pillow, and how vainly she
tried to gead the unreadable riddle.
I'm sure he used to like me-" said
Elsie, as she bathed her eyes with rose
water in the mornings. And there's
tue rosebuds he gave me Just before
Aunt Bridget died, and the letters he
used to write, and-and--'' .
So ended most Of Miss Elsie's solilo-
quies-in tears.
but don't care!' persisted our
heroine.
Two months passed away, and still
Gervaise adhered to his new y5ze of dis |
tant, courteous friend, until one night
Elsie resolved to ask him what she had |
doe to forfeit ;he old place in his heart,
So she marched up to him, in the
merry confusion of good Squire Dalton's
birthday partv-a resolute little soldier, |
in armor .of white muslin and shield of
roses. s'.%' We
Geryaise was leaning sadly against
the door, listening abstractedly to the
music, when Elsie laid her bouquet of
roses lightly on his arm. .>'"
- "Gervaise +. ........
He started. I'D
n" Miss Miller Y ..: .~. -tt
miss Miller" she repeated, bitterly.
Oh, Gervaise-you used to call me Elsie
once. Why are you SO cold-so changed?
What have [ said or done to lose your
friendship?" ..'.% r.' .. i 49,
,..,' Nothing" he answered, strangely
embarrassed. ne. esttss4ez. la ..sz-.. .
: !" Gervaise!" saE Z Z. s-ss.{, ,~. -a.
"Wili you excuse me-" he said, hur-
riedly. !" I see a friend to whom I must
speak,
Elsie stood with her cheeks flaming
like the roses in her hand, and her blue
eyes humid with tears. Had she hui
initiated herself in vain i? -
And this was the night that she went
home and declared, for at least the hum
dred and ninety ninth time,g that ]" "she
didn't care"
II cannot endpre this" thought Ger
vaise Cotton. II shall forget dignity,
manhood, resolution, and every hing
else, If she looks me in the eyes like
that once again. Oh, if Miss Budget
Merriam's fifty thousand dollars could
be thrown into the sea p
All that night Ger-aise spent in pack
ing his ralise,. burning old letters, and
setting his affairs il. asf}aa =
maXA out West" he
thsaaed It's. a wide place and a |
lonely place, and I shall be SAFE from
the besetting demon Of temptation only
there. I may surely keep this little
bunch Of dried violets that she gave me
Che day OF the picnic; fSHe Will never
know Z
Alas, there was little Of consolation
in that last reflection.
. Ought I to write and bid her good
bye 2p he pondered, with an indescriba-
bic yearning, for one last link to bridge
over the dividing currents of their lives.
No, { must leave her free, unfettered
even BY a fancy. ''.
Gervaise Cotton sat underneath the
swinging iampof the express train, as it
thundered through the midnight soli-
tndss, with folded arms. and sleepless,
staring eyes,. He was leaving hope,
happiness, sunshine, behind hin, for
ever. Oh, Why had Providence made