The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1869-04-09

\ on viii not leave US vet awhile. /
{" Yes, my mother needs me-; as she /
thought Of the weak woman so un-
fitted 10 meet adversely. She knew
she needed the determined spirit she
had inherited from her father. At /
least you viii wait until Dir. Hunt
ington reiurnsg Mrs Clinton SAID, /
drawing the trembling girl to her
side. The red lips quivered as hathle /
thought of his neglect for the past
week. Vet no. he is not false, she !
proudly thought. He may be Ill. l
will wait until I hear from hlm-then
| mast go.
That evening, yielding to the
wishes Of the family, she attended a
reception, and during the evening,
standing for moment nearan aleoye,
she heard her own name spoken and
loss OF fortune mentioned. One said,
e | wonder how Huntington will like
z penniless bride instead of the heir,
ess? Tsumor says they are engaged"
Poor Kathie Weariiy dragged the
hours for the rest Of the evening, and
when her own room was reached she
threw off her rich dress and replaced
It by q wrapper "Can it e that is
the cause Of the change in Russell2
He has heard Of the expected loss,
aud changed. 0h, Russell ! itcannot
be; you are too noble for that" she
thought. But drawing her desk to
her, she wrote to him, telling of the
reEerses that had come to her, and
offering TO release him If he wished.
get her loving heart would not believe
her idol would be shattered.
The days that must elapse before
an answer could reach her, were spent
in preparing Tor her departure. At
| last the letter was handed her,. and
retiriog to her room. she tore 1t
| hastily open, when her own letters
| fell out, or at least part of those she
! had written, and few cold words
saying it was best.etbey should part.
Size did not faint, but the world
seemed very dark to her, and her
heart seemed-ternffg- to stone. Do
| not say. you strong minded ones, she
| should not care for worthless man
and one who would desert her in her
adversiey was one. g 1t is a bitter,
bitter blow, the breaking of an idol,
TO find one on whom the hearts best
and richest treasures have been
layished unworthily. She took out
the letters received from him, drew
off the ring and directed them to him,
sealed up her own without examin-
inE them, then her agony found relief
in sobs that shook the slight form.
At last calling pride to her aid, she
4 reeained her composure and returned
to those she had lett feeling secure
ia her love. Kathie, the gay child
woman was gone, and a cold, deter
mined woman. her faith in mankind
shaken for a time by the rude shock,
remained. Well, Kathie was there
so much love and undying devotion
in your letter that you have been
gone so long, laughed Horace, as she
entered the rooms. Then noticing
the traces of suffering in her young
face, be started up: Good God,
I[athie! He has not dared " Mr..
Huntington and myself are henceforth
strangers, she coldly said. The
villain the dastardly scoundrel! He
shall answer for this" : Horace, my
| friend and brother, you will say moth
ing for my sake. [ made an idol and
found it clay, but shall be wiser in
the future" She, by her manner,
forbid all mention of the subject and
/ all sympathy for the few days she re-
manned with them, for an acquaint-
anoe being about to return home, she
soon bid goodbye to the dear ones
who loved her so tenderly, and the
land where some of the happieSt
h0u-s of her life had been passed, as
well as those OF greatest sorrow, with
| a heart frozen aud faith in a loving
Father shaken.
She found those at home sadly
l q L : i l.
| p0Herless to aid herself and two chill
dren Of ten aud twelve. Kathie went
deJerminately TO work, sold off their
elegant establishment in the city, and
with the money thus obtained, pur-
chased a small cottage in a quiet town
among the hills, where, by the aid
Of an old friend, she obtained school
and class IN music. That was all she
asked for herself; that they would go
gith her to the quiet hillside, for
there, where all nature speaks of rest
and frmness, !, too may find rest aud
faith. she said to her own soul-for
to none did she speak of the sorrow
hat had come to her. Her mother
marked the change that had come to
her impulsive girl, but never guessed
the true reason, and day by day grew
I
a year passed, and found them all
quiet and happy. Kathie retained
her school, dearly loved by ali the
the scholars.
One afternoon, Diminishing the school
early for a holiday, she turned her
steps towards the wood and idly
strolled along the shady paths, dream
ing Of the past and present. drinking
in peace from the scene around, for
she was no weak one to let her sor-
row blight her life and the happiness
Of those around her-yet she was not
one to love Iightly-and sometimes
grew weary Of her present life, and
sadly thought of what might have
been" Wandering along, plucking q
wild flower here and there at her feet,
she was surprised TO find the sun was
fast sinking behind the western hills
Hastily turning towards home, she
quiokened her steps, and soon reached
the house, where her sister Lulu was
eagerly watching for her. and running
to meet her, said, "Oh, Kathie, where
have yon been so long? We are wait
ing tea for you. There is a gentleman
here | never saw before. He was
here when [ came from school, and
mother looks so happyP Hastily gain
Jog her room, Kathie re arranged her
baIr and entered the room, where her
mother and a fine looking gentleman
in the prime of life were seated.
Why, my child, you must have wan
dered far this afternoon, TO detain
you so long. My friend, Mr. Hunt
ington, Kathie-why, what is the
matter, my dear?" as she noted the
sudden pallor of her face and the