The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-06-06

sNAA!>3 ~Oo' ohOuS3A oOA WaS IL . A0AAJ
to part US, yet that for = short time
after long and weary .waiting-you
were my very own-belonging to me
called by my name." =.
III am to de-" she says, harshly,
"what does it matter what name I am
":- ''ed by y?-what name is cut on my
s.avestone? Shall I lie any the easier
because yon wear Grape and weepers for
me ?"
Again he says III ush hush! !"
"You are unwise to wish that we're
WELL" she says presently, with sort of
plying smile; "it is against Jour own
interest. I am quite found Of your
own interest. l am quite found of you
now-quite! like to feel your hand
cody clasping niue; I like to send
you on mersages ; you are 80 sealous
aud SO speedy. I like to see your
handsome, sorrowfol tace come in at the
door,"
Again he bends his head over her
hand to hide his dumb agony.
"lf you had not been here, 1 should
have sadly felt the want of some one
to cry over me-" she continues, mourn
fully smiling; "noboiy else would have
done it certainly. I do not blame
them I never cried over anybody else
or Was at all pitiful or sympathetic in
my day. l reap my own sowing. but
still it is pleasanter as it is"
He is kissing her hands over and
over again, but he makes no rejoinder.
"But YET" she pursues, gravely, ~
have missiving that, if I grew strong
and well again, I should have as little
relish for your society as ever; Ishould
shrink from your touch, aud fly at the
distant sound Of your voice, as I did in
the old days Of our engagement. Do
not look miserable; my affection for
you will never be put to that test-only
say nothing more about my being your
wife; wish for that as little as ever
love you as child loves its nurse,
rot as woman loves her husband"
Poor Scrope his last Spanish cas-
tic has fallen into ruin by her cold
and friendly words she has torn into
tatters the airy fabric of his last poor
dream.
II Was wrong," be says, after
pause, in a strange voice, "sel6sh, as
always am. will be-be-content."
A long, long silence. Outside, tho
cheer footsteps of guests in the hotel
running downstairs, in preparation for
some pleasnrt expedition llud and
happy volees cali on one another.
Lenore lies back, with closed eyes, ex-
hausted by the previous conversation,
and yet it is she that resumes it.
GLOW long do they give me ?" she
asks, family, but calmly; "if you are
truly my friend, you will tell me-
No? Well, then, l must remain in
my ignorance"
Another pause ; the gay picuic-party
have packed themselves into their car
riage with a noise of wheels and bells
they are off.
"Before you co." says Lenore,
again speaking, II have one more
thing to say to you; it will pain you
sharply, but that is nothing new, is it7
you will writhe and shudder, as bave
already seen you do two or three
times to day--well-1 cannot help it
you are the only person I can speak
to about it; if I were to broach the
subject to Jemima, she would put her
fingers in her ears, and run ont of the
room"
"What is it? ?" he asks, indistinctly.
"When-it is all over" she says,
very slowly, but with cemposure,' when
I am-gone, do not let them take me
back to England !; was not it Chateau
BRAND who said that there was some
thing revolving to him in the idea of
a dead person on journey ?-well-
I agree With him. Make them bury
me herc-in the little mountain grave
yard, where you and I sat on that Sun
day evening, whom first you came-are
you listening will ycu promise? ?"
81 PROMISE" he answers, unsteadily.
GLOW grand it was !" she says leaa-
ing back, with closed eyes, and smiling
deamirgly, II see them now-all those
great peaks cutting the pale green sky
With their Jagged teeth-now that I
am to leave tho world so soon, I wish
it were uglier; perhaps it would be
easier to 600 my God - (open.
ing her eyes, aud clasping her hands
together in utter bitterness of spirit),
81 do love this very world-just as it
ls-other people Esd fault with it, but
I do not-I love it, love it-Oh,
why may not I stay a little in it p
"Bury me under the west wall,''
she says, "bensath the catchay and
the blown daodelious ~
TO BE CONTINUED.0