Litchfield enquirer., 1869-04-15

WHOLE NO. 22S9 depression the same, and yet so beautiful was each, you could not tell which was most fascinating. As the leaves and How CTS dropped upon the ground, I gathered I up my senses and begged pardon for caus- ing such waste of loveliness, and offering my hat as a, substitute for the dress she was straightening into propriety, in a few moments all embarrassment had vanished, and we were talking as though We had known each other all our lives. t,.,,t ,. 1T had often heard my cousins speak of Marion Wendin, who was 6 favorite school mate, but until then had not met her. She told me she was visiting g friend q few miles of, and so came over the previous evening and took them by surprise. Your cousins told me, also, added she, archly, they would not dare let you know of my arrival, or we should not bo blessed with your presence to day; SO, to give you lit- tie longer respite from the burden of my presence, started into the orchard about the time they expected you; but it seems you have stumbled at once into the den of the honess'
 '' Say, rather, have invaded Paradise, and startled it's Eve,' was my laughing re- Ijoinder. ..........
 1T had to bear all manner of tests, when we reached the house, from my aunt and cousins, which were g great annoyance to me, as did not care to have them repeat all my light remarks concerning women to j the fair Marion. Woman had become 0 | new creation since had met her-a being to be not only loved, but revered, standing peerless among all the works of 0 great 1 Creator.
 Days passed on We rode, walked, and sailed together-Cousins Mary and Lucy, Marion and l. As I was the only gentle man in the party, my attention was divided among the three but Marion and had many little tete-a-tete all our own. was infatuated, absorbed, thrilled. In twenty four hours from the time met Marion Wendin was in love, deeply, hopelessly, the more so because no woman before had ever crossed my vision for whom I had second thought. v.r .s .sr.
 ''At the end of two weeks she was going home. I resolved to tell her all, and place my fate in her hands. could but make one mad plunge It must come to that at last, for there was no means of retreat, no drawing back this fiery steed that was hur- rying me on so desperately.
 l "We stood on the porch watching the October sunset as it threw it's redness over redder leaves draping the lattice-w work. Marion's eyes kept filling with the glory of the sunlight, till it seemed to me she was melting into it, and becoming part of the very golden mist hanging around us. laid my hand on hers to be sure she was still there in person, and then ventured to ask if she would not like to go with me to 1 the orchard once more before she left us. She acquiesced, and folding Q shawl abont | bor T dro har ss, rA asa Ia, we walked to our first meeting place--si. lently on Aer part because the poesy of her tsoul was all awake, and speech would have broken the spell; and was silent, for the great hour of my life had come, when Fate would mete out joy or woe as the portion of my cup. Involuntarily we both stopped as we reached tue spot where two weeks before we had encountered each other, and , summoning all my courage, with all my soul in my voice, asked-.Do you know I met my destiny here 2 7---
 "There was no affected turning sway on her part, as though she did not understand me, but turning to me with Q smile half sad, half surprised, she quietly said-'Did you ?? l did not meet mine. s T ':t Then, Marion by common consent all titles had been dropped, she, like Mary and Lucy, calling me Cousin Milton-'I
 
 | "tHow could you, when we are SO very dissimilar? You man in all the pride and glory of being that, and I Q woman with woman's weakness. am not giving my o,un view of the sexes now, but yours, as it has been told me by your cousins--as have gathered from your own lips; and, be assured, if my destiny is only that of Q acoDadn, 1 hold it too sacred to unite it with one who would see in me only atoms of dust rwhirling on aimlessly. ,,i -..s.,,., ,.,fr rr,.,.
 "She turned to leave me; I held her, crying-'Ohl Marion, Marion, you have sadly misunderstood me; or, if once could have thought so foolishly, my blindness has disappeared f-..r .u -s .r...,.,t. 1 "she scanned to pity me. for, turning, I'her lip quivered an instant, and her tone ksoftened. E-Ia..z, 4s.
 Cousin Milton, do you remember be- meeting at Mir. Sydney's shy, awkward school-girl, whom they called Cousin May? EShy, awkward, as was then, I had heart, and you, with your winning and genial ways, won 1t. But heard you talk 50 lightly of woman, and all esteemed holi- est and best in her, that my idol fell. I wrestled with my heart, and conquered, It I is too late to renew the old fire, for am lpledged to one who esteems my womanho6d coequal with his manhood. would have spared you this pain-my own bitter expe- rience has taught me sympaAhy-but I never dreamed you would have loved. lgfi- | s'I dropped her hand. It was that Nf another's; had no right to retain it. X ] moment we stood thus beneath the stars, face to face, her eyes looking into mine with q calm pity, and that moment seem- ing to me an eternity of woe. She broke I the stiffness by rustling her shawl closer around her, and in silence accompanied her to- the house. At the door I turned away with an unspoken goodnight upon my lips. dared not trust myself to speak. , "She arrested the movement. Forgive me if I have pained you.' a49 ''ti @ .'There was deep feeling in her voice but my heart, as took the proffsred hand, only went out in the cry-'Marion !! Mari on ? And that vail has gone down through all these twenty years. sTst# .s7'f5c 4f
 ..Ned, have tried to retrieve the error of my youth. Tn the light of that blessed womanhood, which was revealed to me in those weeks of sweet intercourse with Mar ion Wendin.s have lived and written. 40