Litchfield enquirer., 1870-04-28

self agreeable ia some equally tangible 4ashion.
 " I told aunt Marjorie, at first. that I could not abide him; but she did not at- tempt to argue me out of my dislike.
 He seems inclined to be very polite and friendly she said, so I don't think you ought to allow him to see that you are prejudiced against him. We need not ac- cept his invitations to drive and walk, un- less you choose
 me, could see that 1t was my duty not to be rude, and gradually we grew very good friends. He really was not old-looking, after all, discovered, though his hair did show 8 little gray, but he was so tall and handsome that I got over thinking of him as elderly. '.
 Matters went on beautifully for as much as six weeks, which is long time for a woman to agree with any man. But after that, began to have my own little scru- ples and troubles, though for a while I kept them even from aunt Marjorie. Of course, you know what was the matter. At least, you do if you are 9 young woman, and can sympathize with me. That stu pid man was doing what all his stupid sex will-getting in love. Oh, dear me! after the first light broke on me, and I could think the matter over. 1t was useless to employ the participle. as if It were a bu- siness just begun and not near 8 consum- nation, the silly creature had fallen over head and ears into the most tremendous sort of insanity. It was so foolish of him At first was so much vexed with his fol- ly, that I could not even be sorry; but af- ter little, reasoned myself into better state of mind, and could, at least, feel pity. Of course. there Was no possibility of my going beyond that; the idea was too absurd. Why, if he stopped to think, or had any faculty of the sort left, he must perceive it himself
 meditated great deal about the mat. ter, and tried very hard to find out what it was best for mo to do. It seemed only cruelty to show him, by any decided change of manner, that had discovered his secret If he had been twenty-five, should not have hesitated to do that; but l had read in so many novels what a seri- ous thing love IS to man who Is getting toward middle-age, that was frightened at the idea of doing anything which might make him desperate. But it was very foolish of him; could not help say ing that, though I was so sorry. I de- clare for it, I couldn't sleep a wink that restless night for thinking about it. So sat up and read the last volume of a new novel; and how did cry over it for, in sort of way it was parallel case to mine, only the heroine married the man out of pity! did wonder little whether l ought to do that; but as I was always able to look at every side of subject, I could see that such weakness was fatal to him and me. My wretchedness would on ly make him more miserable; so, when decided that he must be refused, l really felt l was doing 8 heroic thing ln not snatching at martyrdom, as so many girls would have done, who had not my ability to take ln every bearing of subject pre- sented for serious consideration.
 Luckily. the next day, MT. Cromlin was absent, so had time fully to study my line of conduct, and be able to preserve my usual manner toward him. l decided that would be best. All I could do was to prevent his speaking out as long as I could prevent it. Of course the denouement must come at last; but if l could defer 1t till near the time of our departure, it would make matters much pleasanter for all parties.
 We'll, he returned, and he was in such an ecstatic state when he came to the house, that I Was really afraid Majorie would discover his secret did wish that it was possible for me to whisper warn ing word to him, for his own sake. He was very kind and delightfully."- attentive; in spite ofmy troubled mind, could not help enjoying the amusemeuts he was all ways providing for us. Nothing looked better than hls courtesy to Aunt Marjorie; I could see that it was altogether on my account; but it was very nice of him. Ac- tualIy, if she had been young lady he could not have appeared more pleased with her society. Sometimes, when he camel used to make excuses for not going down. nI thought it better to accustom hin to gettipR on without my society, and it was wonaefful how he hid the restless ness I knew he felt. I could hear him laughing and talking till it made my heart ache to think what hollow mock cry it was, and how like novel, only much more thrilling and dramatic. At last used to dread being left alone with him, for I knew that he would not be able to control himself much longer; that the secret which was upon his lips would burst out in spite of his control, and I should make him unutterably wretched; and never was one of your hard d-hearted glrls that delight in giving pain.
 One evening we had been out to walk and met several young people from the village; and that foolish fellow turned crus- ty because I talked with Dr. Giesson, and made pretence of devoting himself to aunt Majorie, but, dear me, it was such wretched pretence. l could sec that he was just IS miserable and jealous as he could be.
 Tue people came in and stayed awhile, but aunty had head ache. and went away to her room. and I sat in mortal dread that Mir. Cromlin would not go with the others. felt a sort of presentiment that he would stay and do something foolish, and was as correct as If I had been clairvoyant, and could read his mind like book.
 The others went and he staid. I felt myself begin to tremble from head to foot, but remembered if he did speak, it was my duty to end the matter then and there; and must be firm however much his snf- fering pained me, I chatted and laughed, like crazp thing, was so nervous, but he sat grave and solemn as statute, and that nude me worse still. But 1t was more when he began to talk, for it was plain what an effort he made to speak of ordinary things; so I flew of to the pl- ano and begau-played all sorts of bits from B0rbe BLeu-anything to keen him