Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1869-12-07

you HlSut MAKE ule WndI you please.
40, Charlie, Charlie !"-the utter.
ance Of the old familiar name was like
a sob-"if you cannot be all that you
ought from higher reason, no efforts
of mine would avail"
They would-they wouldr'
She shook her head sadly, retain
ing all the while her forced compo-
sure, though inwardly she trembled so
that she could hardly stand.
"They have made you hate me" he
exclaimed. "You look upon me as a
monster. After all, how am SO much
worse than other men? If the truth
were known, half these sanctimonious
people who abuse me have done worse
things than"
She put up her hand pleadingly,
and he stopped. She could not bear
to hear him attempt such selfjustifca-
ton. With her religious feelings, the
excesses of which he had been guilty,
appeared much more terrible than
they would have done to woman of
the world. But she loved him in
spite of everything, for when did such
doubts ever change affection?
80, CharlesW p she said suddenly,
'for your own sake, for your mothers,
be true to yourself-make your life
all that it ought to be-"
"What do | care for myself? As
for my mother, she has son to de-
pend upon-I am Of no consequence
no one will care how | end"
"You are breaking my heart. Do
not make US all so miserable"
She wrung her hands with a sud-
den passion which startled him. She
vas usually so quiet that, with his i'm
petuous nature, accustomed to give
vent to every feeling, he had at times
accused her of a want of feeling.
at is my heart which is breaking"
he answered. annie, don't throw
me of--don't send me away utterly
! desperate"
"If you had lost every hope in the
world you ought not to be that. I
can never be anything to you-my
father will never permit it"
| "And can you hesitate between US ?
Is that your love?"
"My duty is stronger than my love, F."
she said, "and | shall obey. Were l
alone in the world, might we'll hesi-
tate before l committed my happiness
to your keeping; but would do it
| would trust to your affection to me
to lead you Alright; but now"
"Now you may do it. There is no
one loves you as do; you fear your
father more than you love him; your
brothers tyrannize over you. Only
come with me-be my wife, and let us
be happy in spite of the world"
"Do you think I could be happy
with my fathers anger hanging over
me ?"
"He would forgive you in the end"
You know him better than to be-
lieve that. No, Charles; rather have
patience and wait. Who can tell, if
you did as you ought, worked hard
and made yourself a good name, that
he would not in the end yield2"
"He hates me too much for that.
There is no hope"
The sunset was beginning to fade.
Annie dared not remain, and she was
growing so faint and weary that she
longed to end the pain of parting.
you are anxious to co. he said
bitterly. "You grudge me even this
last half hour. Do not fear, | shall
never ask another"
You will be sorry for such cruel
words when you are gone" she re-
turned. Don't make these last men,
ories so bitter
Then his wild love came up again,
and he implored her with all the fer
vor of passion not to leave him: but,
though she wept in agony, her firm
ness was mistaken. She could die,
but she could not take step which
she felt to be wicked.
Then gor he exclaimed. "I shall
never trouble you again. swear you
shall repent this to the last day of
your life. You have made me utter
ly desperate-I have nothing to live
for now"
"Your mother-remember your
mother"
| Il shall be better out of her way
have been a curse to her all my life. "
Then his mood changed. He clasp
ed Annie for an instant in his arms,
and before she could speak he was
gone. The last look of his white face,
convulsed with mingled emotions, ter
rifed her so unutterably that she had
no strength even to pronounce his
name.
After a time she rose from the
ground, where she had fallen rather
than sank from any will of her own,
and went slowly home through the
chill twilight.
For two days longer Charlie Man
son fingered about the village, then
disappeared. 1t was supposed at
first that he had returned to London,
but two days after his mother found
letter in the room which he usually
occupied.
1t only said that he should never
trouble her again-neither her nor
any one. 1t was better that every
thing should end.
At first she could not understand
the signature of the half-illegible
scrawl. Gradually it broke upon her
mind that the leave-taking meant sui.
eide. She grew almost mad with the
horror of the thought.
The report went abroad, and eve
rybody formed separate opinion
But when the tidings reached Annie
Linn, she could not doubt, even for an
instant, that he was dead.
Mrs. Manson wrote to his city
friends. He had not been seen; no.
where any tidings. She could do
nothing.
; More than week passed. 1t was
a bright, delicious spring. The trees
were all green; the crocuses and
snowdrops were blossoming in the lit.
tie garden; a colony ofrobbins haunt
| ed the old appletrees, and flew in at
the open windows, telling beautiful