The democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1868-1874, 1872-09-09

He put away from him oil chow oi
lightness aud insincerity.
"AIarian, things cannot go on Rs they
have for very long. have so often
longed to tell you many causes Tor being
o changed man, aS mother says am"
II knew could trust you With this
She is old; I wish to keep all thorns
and hindnnces from her path. She
could not understand; you can and
will.n .
With quick motion peculiar to heI
when yeIed, the glrl threw mp her hands
and covered her face.
10, David, please don't. ii it's any
thing bad don't want 10 know it; you
don't know, David, how many things
there are to worry me-liLtle things
could never feel like talking tSauy one.
50 please, David, don't tell me. am
sure to prove not worthy oil your con
fidence-nt least another time-not now.
feel as though tonight l could not
bear another iot"
David gently put out large brown
hand, and, uncoyering tie girls face,
looked into the blue eyes with new
aud expressive sorrow down deep in his
own. s.
"AIarian, has any thing gone wrong
anew2 / hope you don't mind mother
folks at her time Of life require forbear
ance. Your life is all before you, yon
know" 5
Marian looked out to the west where
! tue black shadows lay, and almost
4 wished TINT all the years which were to
be, had heen known and passed.
II have no complaint to make Of
your mother, David, she has been the
only woman friend I have ever known
she has not understood me, perhaps,
but that may not be her fnult. No. ]
don't know what IL is that makesne so
but I feel that Ishould loyeto go away
from llere-atlea for o little time"
go agoy from Rye Fields-home
without Marian
Dayid's hands dropped neryelcsS al
his side. After all these years, he be-
lieYed that II he spoke then she could
almost 6nl it IN her heart to lato him
and so Iie kept silent.
II was not possible that anything hC
might say could make aicbapge in her.
What had he. to offer against that gay
world from which sucll as Miss Fol-
lingsbie came down into peaceful coun'
try places, sowing ambition mud discon'
tent2 ,1i i''.i-i 'iHI
"Good.night, Marion. Yoa had bet,
tor not stay out the dew Is falling
now" And he was gone.
Marian went slowly up the homewarl
path, thinking thatit she had permitted
David 10 speak lie would have told her
OF a hopeless passion, as man could
tell any woman friend whom he knew to
be disinterested, about o passion for
another woman. ' '''''' '''''
Marian did not doubt all this, and her
heart held new ache as she went softly
up the stairs to her own little chamber,
and lay on her white bed very still un-
der the pallid moonlight, and went back
step by step over the eighteen years OF
her life, seeing in many things changes
she should have made. l1
EARLY in September, when the bar
berries and shumachs stood, scarlet
through the long, dry .daysr and the rye
fields were shaven clean, th 10 was n
breaking up ut the old farm house.
Miss Follingsbie went back to the city,
taking the happy Marian, whose ecstacy
ut the thought knew NO bounds, albeit
she had grown paler day by day with
some hidden thing. Miss Follingsbie
promised TO assist her in. many ways
first, she was to remain with her as COM
panion or in no capacity at oil, rs long
as she liked; after that, they would see.
She might return TO Rye Fields perhaps
LII she choose. Things went OIL much
the samO apparently at the old place,
mornings, moons, and nights, over and
over, until the maple leaves we're bitten
and red, and the little garden, where the
hollyhocks and currants had blossomed
and grown, wis q barren desert.
Mrs. Higgins, in her checked apron,
swept, busted and baked, finding Ms
much fault in the absent Marian as when
she Ind been under her eye and hand.
The greatest change was visible in
David. His color was quite gone; he
had fallen into the habit Of walking Tor
hours alone in the short evenings, COM
ing hcme In the edge Of night, going to
bed without any supper, and rising at
daylight TO begin again hard work.
scarcely speaking o word to any one.
"Well, i'll didn't know David better
and there ain't single girl about that
he makes up to, I'd sartin and sure
think the lid might be in love.
An awful thought flashed through the
good ladys mind, aud she allowed the
gray wcolen stocking she was knitting
to fall ir a great tapgle on the stone
hearth.
now, il DIvid Higgins sarn't q grieyin'
his appetite away about that city girl,
Miss Follingsbie. T I rally believe il
though I should hayo thought David q
man Of more sense than to banker after
a woman that never gave him q thought.
He'll get over it, and it'll do him good" "
Still David wentdiis way and made no
Sigh, yea OF nay.
40, dear Miss Follingsbie, how much
I owe to you; without your aid / might
never have known any thing more about
myself To tlIink / had friends, kindred
and q fortune waiting for me, and l so
near oil these years and not to know Of
It. How strangely things come about
A something compelled me to leave Rye
Fields all at. once. i wonder II II was
what is called fate. a'ia
al acknowledgements, DEAR Miss Fol.
lingsbie said, with smile at her young
friends enthusiasm.
Blythe. y, Marian, speaking Of Rye