Litchfield enquirer., 1871-06-01

think. I have plan for school there But let me tell you about my letter. My brother is dead"
 Oh, Raiph!"
 s Yes, dear;'' and he paused for one mo ment to tighten the iron band of self con trol, lest his voice should falter. s'He diee three days ago. and my mother is alone I must go to her, md she must live witt me; she cannot be left alone" ifa
 "But, Ralph. yon will not leave m' alone?"
 "Alone? Why, ny darling, you will gt with us, with me. E have not told you yet The holidays begin to morrow. and I shal start for the North Two months-less, hope-will give me ample time to arrange everything. Then I will come back here for you; we will be married, and at once go to our new home in the West, away from this languid, eneryating South. Ther I shall be man again, and we will bt
 "But-oh, Ralph, must you go? I hat so built on the holidays with you. thought we could have such real pleasure such delight, such areal taste of the dole far niente and you know" she continued laughing timidly as she saw slight shade come over his face, care for the South Ralph, and it's flowers and fruits, it's sur and air. ''
 "Well," he said. pressing his lips to gether firmly and the smiling sweetly (s way he had, which seemed to say, "I am strong, but then will be gentle, too, '') q suppose you can idle and lounge to your hearts content without me, and I must go. For myself, I shall be glad to climb [ hill. and see -feathered bird again But. dear, l must not stay here now. have all my preparations to make. have said nothing to the Rewards as yet. came first to you, and you will consent will you not, Amy, to be nag Amy in Sep tember?"
 |" am yours now, Ralph. I have nc one to ask; and if you wish it-are you sure it's best? The West is so far, SC dreary!' ...
 Far from where. dear? This is nc home for us-no, no. will go and do my work and come back for nay reward. And you will wait and miss me little, Amy?'
 " Indeed, dearest, I shall not know what to do without you-no arm to lean on ol brain to teach me; no heart to rest in.''
 ''I will come back to you and always be the same. It makes me happy to hear you say that am these things to you. They are so pre-. eminently what think man should be-what Iwish to be to the woman I love-" s sa~a.- v..f
 We'll, dearest, you are all that to me, ' said Amy dreamily, and they turned back to the house. 2"
 !. " Till tonight. good-by," he said, draw. ing her toward him by her hands. which he had taken, and looking deep into her eyes! "How blue your eyes are, Amy
 Blue, blue as if the sky let fall
 flower from it's ceru1ean wall.'
 What. Ralph! poetry from you?"
 "Only Bryant.n he said, laughing. !" Sentiment, not passion; thought rather than feeling-a NortLerner like myself, and like you. too. my Iarsing.
 "I don't know that. Sometimes I think I have spice of the South in me-" she said. .-s.
 "No, no-a thousand times no. You mine, and so right Northern-a violet, a wren on an edelweiss."
 Yours, certainly, and suppose, there. fore, what you make of me-" Aud so they parted. That night he came and bade her fare. we'll, held her to his heart, and told her that he would come again and marry her, and take her home-told her SO strongly and calmly; and she rested in his arms and bowed her head on his heart, and felt at peace and rest. So then good-by was said. The next morning Ralph Holcombe galloped past the cottage before Amy had awakened, looked up at the closed lattices, and blessed her sleep with all his heart; then set his face northward with resolute purpose and calm assurance of his power
 A week had gone by-a week of perfect summer; the holidays had begun, and Amy had set her face to live as Ralph had coun. selled and desired her to do. She knew just what he meant and wished for her to do that summer vacation--the course of study he had marked out, the regular oc. cupation for body and mind, exercise for both coming systematically and steadily upon each others heels, both followed by repose and rest for mind and body-and she had determined to carry out his wish es; had begun, indeed, to do so, and all bad run on smoothly and evenly. But on that seventh morning she awoke later than usual, owing to the trifing accident of her blinds having been closed; and when her eyes opened the day was upon her, with all its wealth of color and odor. The slight freshness and simpleness of the early had gone, the sun had kissed every drop of dew from the flowers, and the shadows were scarcely visible. Amy stood an instant at the door of the cottage, and then plunged into shady walk, where she could sit and read and yet not suffer from the sun. She settled herself in an accustomed place, but she could not com mand her usual power of attention. The day was too much for her. She had all na- ture against her, and she was not meant to fight against nature, least of all nature to which she was attuned, and whose in- duences she felt the more intensely that she was not mere refiux of the indwel. ling spirit about her, but being of com plex and intricate harmony. She was, in- deed, as Ralph had said, violet, a North. ern flower; but there were possibilities in her soul, capabilities in her nature, sshopes, and fears that kindle hopes, an undistin- guishable throng," of which he never dreamed, not being in his philosophy. The scarlet of one flower, the scent of an. other, would make her eyes gleam and he, breath quicken as his never did. She was indeed of such "stuff as dreams are made of. So this morning the soul of the roses about her went into her blood, as MT. Ten. nyson tells us it may do even in temperate, sober England, and she lounRed on hel grassy seat, tried to read her task and did not. and at last gathered bunch of roses and buried her face in them with a lono tremulous sigh of delight. She lifted her head at last, saying, " Oh, how delicious - I&1,& ,&c-, Il.