Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1873-08-30

ever made calculations upon q for
: tune dependent upon the death of the
one for whom they felt the warmcst
affection, and the idea that Others
, could be influenced by it was a new
! thought to the young girl.
She had given to her betrOthed,
Charlie Seaton. the first love of hel
r young heart, believing his love was
all her own. In the six years she had
lived at Merton, child and maiden
Charlie Seaton had been her devoted
admirer from the first, and had re-
. Gently finished his course of law stu
DIV and been admitted to the bar.
His fortune, inherited from his faith
er. was very small barely covering his
expenditure for board and clothing;
but he was energetic, Industrious. and
. without brilliant talent, q clear-head-
. ed, intelligent student, promising to
make a capable LAWYER, if not shin
ing light at the bar.
Answering her mothers call, Jessie
nestled down IN her faVorite seat at
her feet, saying, sadly:
eff Charlie was influenced by any
hope of Aaunt Jessie's money, NAM
ma, it is better to know it now. I had
supposed we would have to wait for
our wedding day until he had some
practice, and You know I have a lit
tie sum of nv own toward first ex-
penses. We could live here and there.
I viii not think of it any more till
the answer comes to my letter"
''While you wait. my dear, said
her mother, "shall I tell you what I
think Is the explanation of your aunt's
singular will? You, who know her
only as the gentle, sad woman of her
later years, can scarcely imagine.
presume that she was once as bright,
hopeful and sunny-tempered as yonr-
self. I think it is to save you from
her own sorrow that she has taken
| from you the power of giving wealth
to a mere efortune-hunter. She would
| have you wooed and won for. yourself
alone, and as she has never positively
said you were to be her heiress, she
has probably never supposed Charlie
biased by that hope. Sill, dear, it is
possible"
eyes, it is possible, said Jessie
slowly, "but tell me about Aunt Jes-
sic"
"Your grandfather Markham, Jes-
sic, was one of the leading merchants
of New Y ork, when your aunt, his on
ly daughter, was introduced into So
ciety. Your Uncle Hoyt was in good
practice as a physician, your father
| doing then a fair business, and al
ready married and in his own house.
cit was, therefore, with the name
of an heiress that Jessie danced thro'
her first season, a careless light-heart-
ed girl, very pretty, and accomplish
ed enough to make pleasing impress
sion wherever she went. She was but
q little over twenty when she became
engaged to Stanley Horton, the most
fascinating man in all our circle of
friends. Not only handsome and tai
ented, (and he was both), but posses
sing in a remarkable degree the court
ly polish and winning grace of man.
ners that go so far toward gaining q
wOman's heart, the absorbing love
that Jessie felt for him seemed mutu-
al, and congratulations were the or
der Of the day, when your GRANDPA
ther failed. From a man of wealth
he became actually poor, and losing
energy and home, he came with Jes-
sic to share our home Stanley HOr-
7 ton, the man we all supposed to be p
devoted lover, was fully aware of the
change in Jessie's prospects, yet he
continued all visits, making no alb
rubt ungentlemanly deertiOn of his
betrothed. Yet we, who watched her
with the jealousy of affection, soon
discovered a change inner. She be-
came pale and sad, Often fearful, till
finally she confided TO me that Stan
ley was evidently weary of her, and
had ceased to love her. Even then
she attributed the change to some de-
feet in herself, not SEEING the mer-
cenary motive till latG, when time
had taken the glamourfrom her eyes
and heart. She gave him back his
ring and promises, thus accepting the
position his unmanly conduct had
forced upon her, of lersef breaking
the engagement between them. The
first love of her life was the last. She
was your grandfatherS comfort until
he died, and then went to keep house
for Hoyt, who lost his wife and baby
one year after his wedding day
When he died he left her the house
and money, and She lived there till
she died. Still know she loved you,
and am quite sure her will is not de-
signed so much to keep You single as
it is win the disinterested love of your
future husband"
There was a long silence after Mrs. !
Markham concluded her story, and !
Jessie allowed her head to rest in her
mothers lap, under her caressing |
hand trying to picture a future of
easy competency shared by the COM !
panion of her life. 1t had its bright !
side; there was still love and happi- |
ness for her yet. AND then a bright |
face, crowned with curly brown hair |
would come before her, and she knew |
that the handsome house nor the COM |
Portable income could ever fill her
heart if Charlie left an aching void |
there.
Suddenly, like a gust of wind, there
swept into the little sitting-room a !
tall, broad shouldered young man, in |
gray tweed suit and SLOUGH hat, !
which latter article found n resting
place on the floor, as the Young giant |
braced himself before Jessie in an at |
titude of grim defiance that sent
thrills of glad music into her heart.
''Win you have the, kindness, Miss !
Markham, said the intruder, tower |
ing in his six feet OF manhood over |
Jessie's low seat, ''tO tell me what !
you mean by that absurd letter P0fiy |
handed me? Was it not fully under |
stood that you and [ were to share |
this cottage with your mamma until |
I attained sufficient legal emineuce
to warrant the purchase of a brown
stone front in New York? Was I not |
deIuded into the belief that your
presence in the culinary department /
of our establishment was to reduce 1
our expenses to the limits of our pres
ent income? Was it not represented /
to me that my present hoard was suf-
ficient to meet the requirements of |
two in this domicile? In short, Miss |
Markham, in what way was ever led |
to suppose that the fortune of your
spinster aunt was to influence in the |
slightest degree your matrimonial re-
latiOns in regard to myself. pause |
for a reply"
Jessie stood up, her hands meekly |
folded together, and her happy eyes |
downeast till the long lashes kissed |
her cheek.
''Please forgive me this time, and !
I'll never do it again." she said; and |
then the laugh dimpled her cheek, |
danced in her eyes, and rippled out
clear and sweet upon the air.
"Oh, Charlie! Charlie! 1 knew
you never thought of Aunt Jessie's
money"
0ADd VOL, ,, said C1,arl;o boI5i,c,