Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1869-09-01

he had planted his foot, rolled, and | saw
him fall to the bottom among the rocks. y
20, Ben, dear Ben, are you hurt? =? o,
do speak TO me
But there was no answer. | kneeled
down beside him.
'-Oh, | do love him, and yet hare kill
ed him Dear, dear cousin Ben, speak to
me once more ~ And-it was very foolish
Kate, butt put down my head and kissed
him.
As | exclaimed, 80, what shall | do
what shall | do? ! saw smile quiver round
his mouth, and he opened his eyes and look
ed at me archly. He was not hurt-he had
been deceiving me! | sprang TO my feet
burning with indignation and shame. to
think that / had betrayed myself TO him /;
and without one word l turned away with
the air of an injured queen, for felt so, 1
am sure
Nov don't be angry, cousin Carrie, y
said Ben, .pringing up and coming to my
side; Il really didn't mean to frigbten you
till you screamed and ran to me with such a
look of terror, and then an irresistible de.
care for me-
You have insulted me, l replied in
dignantly, "and yet you do not even ask
me to forgive you, or assume to be sorry"
Il do acknowledge that il was wrong, but
as to being sorry, Carrie, and he looked
me full in the face with world of meaning
in his beautiful eyes-"I would rather give
half my life than not had it happen as it
did !" Then he resumed his old rallying
tone. evidently not believing in my anger,
while walked on in dignifed silence
Carrie, you do look like Mrs. Siddons
as Lady Macbeth. actually-all but the
cape bonnet, which l think rather Injuries
the effect. Wouldn't you be kind enough
to take it off? No! What pityl Your
mouth is suited perfectly to a pouting e1-
preston, and it's a shame to hide it. !"
While we were walking along, he had
been carefully arranging the buttercups and
shaking the dust from the leaves, and now,
as We reached the gate before Aunt Lydia 3
house, he held them out to me.
The buttercups, Carrie, that yen sent
me for. You know what your receiving
them was to mean
| drew my hand back, saying, Il shall not
take them.
His manner changed instantly, and with
earnestness, and yet quiet dignity that /
admired in spite of myself. he answered
Cousin Carrie, you know that love you
better than anything else on earth, but if
you wish to Jet me know. by refusing the
huttercaps, t.at yop DO not care for my love
there is nothing more for me to say"
was very angry, and merely saying ''you
may keep them" / opened the gate and
went in. wishing him haughtily, good
morning.
"What 4 turmoil KY mind was in that
night, Kate, as l sat at my winow and
thought over all We had said and done
Sometimes Indignation was uppermost. that
he had deceived NE SO, and heard my pas
sionate eyc'amatiens when he was lying
there, and that lie knew that had kissed
him. Then | would go over and over again,
his tone as he said it, and it thrilled me
with intense pleasure. By the next morn
ing my indignation had so far abated that |
made up my mind when Ben came to treat
him coldly at first, but if he should be very
penitent for his fault, perhaps | might for
give him in time But he did not come
Il suppose he thinks to punish me by
staying away to-day, said to myself
He did not come the next day, nor the
next, nor the whole week. How [ wonder
ed at it, and listened to hear his voice every
time there was a knock at the door, or
footstep at the gate; and how missed himl
There was no pleasure in going alone, and
there was no pleasure in practicing or study
ing, or doing anything without Cousin Ben.
Aunt Lydia could not account for his alb
senee at all only once she said to me with
4 curious look at me over her speetacles
Il hope, Caroline, that there has not
been any trouble between you and Benja-
min?"
What trouble could there be?'' 1 repli-
ed, pretending to be amused at the thought
of such a thing.
well, its very queer! l should think
lie must be sick, if Peter hadn't seen him
at the post Office yesterday"
a fortnight, seeming TO me two months,
passed drearily by. One evening l had
just come in from the garden, and was
hstlessly on the piazza, when |
heard voice in the parlor that made me
start. 1t was Cousin Ben's. He was talk
ing to Aunt Lydia, and | could hear every
word they said through the open windows,
while | myself vas hid by the curtins. He
told her that he had come to the conclusion
that he had better leave Melton, and that he
was going in the morning, and had only
come to take leave of her. Aunt Lydia
told him how sorry she was to have him go
away, and then l heard her ask him if he
had seen me. mo, he said, and then he
hesitated. Il do not think she will
care about seeing me before go. VIII you
bid her good bye for me p
/ could not bear anything more 1t
seemed as if there was something in my