Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-07-12
g. fF
NO, 164.
Gales aud Sketehes.
An OLD MAIDS STORY.
CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY

"Oh, she is well; so are Joe and
Hugh" el -
did he send any word to me ?'' 'sastoa
"No,-why should he. The dear fellow
has his mind SO entirely taken up with
something else, that do not suppose be
ever thought of it," 'hs #ffa
"Iie is unusually busy, then?n d. lfia
mo, did not mean that said She
looking at ME shyly, and then put up her
hands, as if to hide her blushing face. -
Il don't understand" said /.
Don't you? How stupid! And then
she came up and whispered in my ear:
Hugh and are engaged fa-t
Are YOU" said | dryly, for did not
believe her
Yes said she, playing with her watch
chain. "a
At that moment my eye caught sight of
a small cross among the charms on her
chain. ..,...+,....
What beautiful pin you have on
said |, going up close and pretending to
examine it, SO could see if it was my
cross. Yes, the same. did not ask her
how she got it. II was enough to know
she had it, and was too angry TO inquire
into it, or to weigh the truth OF her words,
but was satisfied knew the cause Of
liugh's silence; and was very proud,
and resolved would not give him u
chance to tell Inc of what had happened.
So, after she left, went to my room,
packed up his letters, and the pictures and
ring he had given me- then wrote note
saying that had been deceived in regard
to his character, and had concluded, as
could have no more faith in him, TO break
the engagement. Would he be kind
| q Oh To LOT Il
rected the package to Hugh Chamberlain
Oh, how l dreaded to send it: but de-
, termined to do it, if it killed me- 6s4,.
In few days an answer came. He was
perfectly ignorant of my insinuations, but
he would not force me to an explanation.
In few days | might expect my letters.
My cross had disappeared; he must have
lost it. Would not let him replace it !?
1t is only an excuse to keep from telling
me the truth, thought. He is ashamed
to have the truth known; and yet Hugh
was always so candid, so honorable, can
not believe it. | will write once more.
But what if it were true? thought !, the
waves of distrust once more sweeping
over me. Should give Irene the satis-
faction of knowing how much harm she
had done me? No. .t....
Oh, in the days that followed, what a
relief it would have been could but have
told Cousin Joe but knew he was
hasty, and was afraid he would want to
avenge my wrongs. But think Joe had
his suspicious; for, shortly after, re-
ceived letter from him. saying: .'Some-
thing is wrong. Hugh is about to embark
for India Write. or come, and prevent
him from going" | believed it q made
up plot to work on my feelings, so ]
wrote back: "Mr. Chamberlain Is moth
ing to me, neither are his actions."'
But Hugh went, and for five years we
heard nothing from him. Then he wrote
to Joe that he was married, and in the
years that had interviewed l had lost both
father and mother had also found that
he had never been engaged to Irene, and
had lived in hopes that he would return;
but when heard that he was married
felt that l had nothing more to live for.
Earth seemed but barren waste of burn
ing sand, and, like the weary traveller, l
longed for rest.
Oh, how hard it was to live on, year
after year. without any aim or purpose, to
see all others so seemingly happy around
me, and to know that my own heart was
crushed-dead The death of my parents
had left me wealthy, so l gratifed my
love Of travelling, wandered over Europe
and the Holy Land. and oh, longed to 60
to India, but why should IL He was
married, and dead to me-
SO came home, settled down in the
old homestead, and devoted my time and
money to the wants OF the poor, and it
served in n measure to make me forget
my sorrow. The years seemed to roll on
at a snail's pace, yet time left its mark :;
hn t,nn - hx, II sc.,lf,
sprinkled with gray, and my cheeks had
lost their rosy hue, for 1 was nU longer
young. But the knowledge did not pain
me. 1t seemed so sweet to know thai bv
and by should lay down this weary bur-
den, cross the murky river, and be at res,
was content to struggle on in the life
that had remained, and resolved it should
not be an idle one. So became more de-
voted to those around me. sought more
earnestly to do my duty. and had my
thanks from the grateful poor, and the
smiles from the children, who had learned
to call me Auntie asf-
One day returned from the death bed
of one of my poor--wet. weary. and sad
dened with the scene had just left, and.
like lone" felt like saying, why pass
me by ?" The day dcepened into twilight.
hut still sat with my face in my hands.
There came gentle tap at my door.
went to it. and the servant banded slne
letter. rang for lights. and it was with
some curiosity looked at IL. for letters
were rare things to me since had grown
old. and still more curious was when |
saw the postmark was India. tore /,
open with Il girlish remor. II was from
Hugh his wife was dead. and on the
next steamer he would return, and once
more would see me-. ....,f ~, t....
Oh, you who have aeyer had your deA,.-
est "hopes deferred can never know what
that promise was to me. was too old to
be sentimental. You think. Yes, SO was:
but my life had all been one long blank,
and now that it was to be crowned with
the sight Of Hugh once more, could l be
blamed9 And there sat, gray-headed
woman that was, and cried like child
Once more heard from Hugh in brief
note, saying he would come some time the
following day. --...
| wandered about the house in state OF
feverish excitement, first going TO the door
to see ii he was coming. then flushing
| lcoNCluDEp ON FouRTH PAGE.