The weekly standard., 1869-09-08

| with the proposal that they should take a
| summer boarder He put the matter IN the
most ungracious way, as is the matrimonial
| wont of precisely this class of men. As she
would be having hired girl any way, he
said-and he used in saying it in tone
| which made her feel herself monster OF
extravaganza they might just as well have
4 something to keep her busy; and this
boarder who wanted to come, this Mr..
Hugh Waring, would pay well, and make
very little trouble He knew this, because
| three wears ago, in his mothers, time,
| Warning had boarded with them for some
months.
Of course Mistress Carrie consented, for
| what could she do else ?-and kept secret
her own dissatisfaction with the prospect
| before her.
1t only took Mr.. Warnings arrival, how
ever, to reconcile her to his presence. With
his first deferential bow over her hand, she
became his willing hostess. He was per-
son OF such type as the young wife had never
before, in her short quiet life encountered
a man of wealth and of leisure, high-bred,
scholarly, and belonging to the ancient or
| der of gentlemen. He was handsomer
man than one often meets, with his clearly
cut features, his warm coloring, and the
chestnut hair and flowing beard, which the
| eye matched. - l.S.ss.
He was not an old young man. Impulse
was strong within him discipline had not
vet taught him discretion. When he felt
strongly he would speak strongly, and, per-
| haps, act recklessly: but, under ordinary
circumstances, he had the aplomb and the
cool self-possession of a man of the world
Very soon he began to perceive that to
board with the Hannafords now was
| slightly different thing from what it had
been in the administration of Joseph Hanna
| ford's self-contained mother and sister. Jo-
seph Hannaford's wife was altogether anoth
er order of woman. It may be questioned
whether she would have made any serious
| impression on him had he met her as Miss
| Carrie Fay. But, since her marriage SOUL
subduing pathos had grown into her look,
which somehow went to his heart. Perhaps,
too, the strongest appeal which can be made
to a mans chivalry, is the sight of sad and
disappointed woman, who neither parades
| nor confesses her misery.
Hugh Waring was not a bad man. In
some respects, indeed, his heart and his life
were purer and tresher than those OF most
men, He certainly meant no harm to his
| fair young hostess. He would not have adj
| ded feathers weight to the burden which
had already borne so hardly upon her life.
But he commenced pitying her; and love
has been PHYS neighbor ever since the
world began.
He was gentle and tender to her as no one
| had ever been before. He was not too busy
| to notice the blush roses in her hair. or the
bushes on her cheeks. If she liked a wild
flower he had brought home, he made light
| of long tramp to fetch her its kindred.
| While she sewed he read to her, and taught
her to love Keats, and Shelly ard Browning.
At nightfall he used to sing to her, while
her husband was busy with the late ''chores"
with which New England farmer fills up
the summer ghts,-sweet, suggestive
love-songs, and old ballads, which have fall
tered down through the centuries their tear
ful music.
| All this time doubt if he had thought of
danger to himself or her. She certainly
never had. Her delight was pure and sweet.
She would have said, if any one had ques
toned her, that Mr. Waring was her friend,
the best friend she had ever had but, un-
| questioned, she did not say even so much as
| IL.
was summer with her heart, as well as with
the year or that the summer day was fly
ing fast.
Nor did anything in the aspect of affairs
make her husband uneasy. To do this
young man, whom perhaps circumstances,
rather than nature, had made old, justice, he
was neither mean nor ungenerous. His con-
idence in this young wife of his was perfect.
She loved him; she was his to have and to
hold; why should he grudge her few hours
which some one else made pleasant after n
fashion not his own? l do not think he
was likely to lose anything by his generosity
or that any amount of suspicious espionage
on his part would have served his own cause
better.
There came, at last, an evening of revela
tion to the two who were going on SO blind
ly; or perhaps it had come to Waring be-
fore. He had been sitting silently through
the sunset. watching the play of the warm
light on Mrs. Hannaford's fair face and
| golden hair She looked wonderfully young
and helpless, with her extreme delicacy, her
appealing eyes, and her soft, white dress,
made as simple as babes, and girdled with
blue ribbon. A languor, born, perhaps of
the summer heats, oppressed her. She
dropped toward him, leaning her head upon
her hand, and looking frail as snow wreath
which wind might blow away. Waring
sat silently, as l said. and watched her. un-
til the sunset lights had gone out of her
hair, and Il curious awe began to steal over
him, as he saw her through the gathering
shadows. white and STILL and unearthly as
spirit. Then, out of the semi darkness, his
voice came to her in sort of chant, too
| low and even to be sung:
"Sweet is true love, though given in vain, in
vain;
And sweet is death that puts an end to pain;
| know not which is sweeter-no, not l.
Love, art thou sweet ? then bitter death must
| be;
Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me.
Oh, lovei if death be sweeter, let me die
Sweet love that seems not made to fade away
Sweet death, that seems to make US loveless
clay,
now not which is sweeter-no, not 1.
Her tears were falling fast before he had
finished. A spell was upon her which she
did not understand, and could not evade
Still she kept silence, and waited for his
words-words which, when they came,
| pleTceu her ike q SWORD.
Mrs. Hannaford, think I must 90
away tomorrow. 1t is midsummer, and all
the hay is down"
"But thought" she faltered tlmidly,
"you were to stay the summer through"
So l should, if all things had been as of
old. 1t is not good for me to be here under
the new regime"
II have tried," she began; and then she
stopped. Her tears choked her. She could
not go on, and tell him in simple common
PAGES, that she had tried to make him COM
Portable.
IF you had done no more than you tried
to do, all would have been WE'LL" he cried
his tones fervent with sudden passion. "I
saw you just what you were, and you hus-
band just what he was. saw how it was
in you to give TO some man; how little you
were even asked to give to him. God help
US both for have learned to love you. 1
covet my neighbors wife-I dare not stay
here" ..-.. .u-.-.
She said nothing but he heard through
the stiffness the bitter sobbing which she
strove to smother. 1t was more than he
could bear. He crossed over to her. but he
| did not take her in his arms Some shield
| of purity was about her which still held
him away from her, though he was close at
her side
Carrie" he said, calling her for the first
time by her name, 4 l must go away to-mor-
row, but you shall go, too, if you will.
Your love would be worth to me any sacri-
flee. What would mine be worth to you?
You know just how much you husband
cares for you. You have seen what life
with him is. Do you think it would break
his heart to lose rnn tell rnn nn un