The Louisianian. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1870-1871, 1871-02-02

the birds as they Airted from branch tc
branch above our heads, disturbed the
serenity of the twilight hour, we plghted
our truths by the formal exchanges o.
rings, and vows of eternal love and con.
stancy were registered in Heaven.
I wondered how Fenton Fernhold
could fancy me, when there were SC
many pretty girls in our village for he
tall and and graceful, with dark clustering
curls, and deep hazel eyes-seemed to
me very prince.
To say that I loved him did not at all
express my feelingtI worshiped, I
adored him. My happiness was as COM
plete as mortals can be. Time sped 80
rapidly that the few intervening weeks
ere Fent6n Fernhold should be obliged
to return to the city passed as though
but days. October came all too soon,
and brought with her the day when We
must part
The last good-by had been said F; the
last long and loving kiss had been given
and received Oh that last sacred and
hallowed kiss! it still burns upon my
lips, though withered and cold they are
almost to iciness-and thrills my soul
with new Life, notwithstanding old and
and infirm as my frame is. .-
All! ye who have given and received
that last kiss so full of love and conf
dence. but to have the cup ofsweet elixir
dashed from your lips, and the bitter
quassia installed, know only how to
sylnpathize with the poor old maid who
is trying to tell her story that it may
serve as n beacon Of light to younger and
handsOmer maidens.
He had said when he pressed my hand
between both his own on that ever-to-be-
remembered morning.
"Only think, darling! A few months
longer, and We will have no more of
these unpleasant partings So, cheer up!"
he added, for I was beginning to feel n
presentiment of evil. "Come, you are
nervous!" he said, noticing my despond-
ency. "The air is chilly. See you are
shaking as though Of ague so one more
parting kiss, and I must be off to the
station or lose the train"
So saying, he drew my head upon his
breast and pressed long and loving kiss
upon my cold lips, and hearty God
bless you !" was for the last time said, and
Fenton Fernhold was gone >.ilt --~
Letters came often, and on Christmas
ne was again with me, this time a guest
It my fathers house, and then tried to
augh at my foolish fears, and with the
lew year I began to prepare for our antic-
pated nuptials, which event had been
rransed to take place early in June.
1t was near the close of a sultry day
n May, the clouds that gathered black
nd heavy, threatened to break forth in
torn and thunder. I had worked hard
o finish my modest little trousseau, and,
fter having laid the last article carefully
nto my new travelling trunk, which oc-
upied conspicuous place in my bou-
or, 1 had partly, by way Of recreation,
nd partly on a charitable errand, taken
un across the fields to Widow Cromp- /,
on's cottage, when the clouds momenta-
ily became denser, and I pressed my
'ay hastily in hopes to reach the little I
ld-fashion church, in whose shady porch !,
meant to shelter myself from the storm. 1
The big drops had just begun to fall, y
reached the narrow graveled walk {
'ading to the old stone steps, which
ere partially covered with moss It
as now almost dark, and I felt little a
eric s'ehen I looked out across the g
hurtAiHard, and saw the many white 6
larble tablets standing out in bold re- 9
ef from the dark background, admonish- +.
g us that our earthly pilgrimage is but /
day as it were, and that there is life q
eyond for which We must prepare. b
As entered the porch 1 perceived two q
cures standing at the furthest end-one p
lady dressed in elegant mourning attire. e
he stood facing me. Her heavy Grape b
NJ thrown back. disclosed q face that
nee must have been of rare beauty, and p
hich now would chain and fascinate the b
'hoider The hair was still very black t,