The Republican journal., 1870-05-26

He hasn't come too vet. Oh, no, no ."-fol
she had thrown herself on her knee, and
cried out that he was dead-''not dcad-not
dead yet, Mrs. Romcr.'
But the wretched woman knew that death
was very near, and the flood Of agony that
swept across her heart told her that she had
not ceased to love her quiet husband.
They brought him in, and from that mo-
ment, for long days and nights, she kept
watch beside his bed, thinking of no other
thing on earth, praying only that he might be
spared to her. She suffered agonles OF re-
morse. Every false thought pursued her with
Il rcvengeful stab.
The gray overcoat, hanging on the wall,
which she had thought old-manish, and like
him. as he rode away, seemed to taunt her
with the thought that it would never be worn
again.
She could not bear the sight of it longer :;
and so one dav she took it softly in her hand
to hang il in a certain closet. AS she lifted
it, something fell from one Of the pockets-a
letter or a paper She stopped to recover it,
and saw a fancitul envelope, with Il bright
seal and her name upon IT,
Such were the valentines that came to hcr.
This was surely one of them. What did it
mean Had her husband discovered the writ
er! Had there been some cause for the acci-
dent, oi which she knew nothing? She look
ed at the valentine again. 1t had never been
posted.
Ethel began to tremble violently, from
head to foot. She sank down upon her
knees, clasping the valentine between both
palms, and held it thus awhile. Could it
be ?-oh, could it be? She opened it. The
same glowing verse, but sadder and more
hopeless, telling of love unreturned. The
same measure in the same feigned hand, yet
not all unknown. Had she never before
seen that little hourish-that peculiar forma-
alton Of . letter?
''Oh, heaven! make me sure )" sobbed
Ethel, and she found her way somehow to
her husbands desk, and opened ii.
Within lay envelopes like those upon the
valentine, Il little box of such gay seals and
fragments Of vcrse-the proofs that the writ
er of those passionate poems-ot those wild
protcstations of love, was no other than Ralph
Romer
She crept back to his bedside and kissed
his face and unconscious eyes She prayed
to be forgiven, with u sense of remorse and
shame such rs she might have felt had she
been much more wicked, and heaven listened
to her.
The crisis passed in safety, and Ralph
Romer's eyes opened on Il face pallid with
grlef, ana worn WIN WatcnlnS, Dul Dcallll-
ful with holy love and constancy. When
one day, her head upon his bosom, she told
him all, he also had his story to tell.
Il am old and gray, you sce,' he said,
''and such love seems only to belong tC
youth. | could not speak it, but felt it,
and | put my thoughts into verse. and sent
them to YOU, my darling, with hope that
you would know whence they came some
time, though hardly with hope that you
could give me more than child's respect
and duty"
But she had given him more-she had civ.
en- him all woman might, and this tolc
him.
They are together still think they have
forgotten that one is young and the Other
old, in the immortal youth of both then
hearts. After that long talk, they said little
more; but their love was IN assured thing
| He tells Her, rs Of yorc, all his scholars
dreams, and talks OF the stars and the flowers
rather than of themselves. But Ethel is con
tent, She has but to remember those treas
ured valentines, which lie bound together
with blue ribbons in her most sacred hiding
place, TO feel assured OF her happiness
There is no empty nook in her warm heart
and the angels OF love and duty clasp thcil
hands beside their hearthstOnc