Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-10-24
NO. 253.
From Appleton's Journal.
AUNT LYDIA.
lCoNTINUED FROM YESTERDAY. |

be our last lesson!n
Lydia's heart threatened to stand still,
and then, apparently to make amends,
beat so hard that it well nigh took away
her breath.
$50, then, you are really going" she re-
piled, and her voice sounded so strangely
that she hardly recognized it; "are really,
going to Italy-to the land of your dreams
and lodgings! l congratulate you with
all my heart :" she added, reaching out
her hand. but without looking up, lest he
should see the tears that filled her eyes.
Volmar took her trembling hand and
back, but still without venturing to look
up, for, in spite of all her efforts at SELF
control, her eyes filled more and more.
There was an embarrassing pause.
Neither vcntured TO speak. both their
hearts were too full. Lydia. who had not
yet learned to control her feelings, finally
covered her face with her hands and let
her tears flow, while Volmar stood beside
her pale and silent.
The perfect quiet around her soon
brought her to herself. What had she
done? Had she not wept like child
What would Volkmar think Of her? She
hastened to dry her eyes, as she said:
81 am a great baby-pardon met
When she looked up at her teacher, she
saw that his eyes also were filled with
tears, and joyous feeling, such as she
had never before. thrilled her entire frame
at sight of them. How much in her own
heart and in Volmar's manner in mo-
ment became clear to her! She knew
now what made her so love art; she saw :,
also, that the brightest day would be dark
to her if she no longer saw the manly fly
ure of him who now stood besides her,
and no longer heard his familiar voice.
Volkmar fixed his eyes on her with
look almost Of despair. He seemed about
to speak, but hesitated, and finally pressed
his lips together, and muttering, ''No !!
no!' At last he said, in a hurried tone, as
though he would fly from some tempta-
ton: Lydia, let us part; l could not, in
any event, give you lessons after to-day.
Farewell. May Heaven be merciful to
us both He was about to hasten toward
the door. but Lydia stepped before him.
Part! part!'' she cried, ''part now
1t is no longer possible?"
Volkmar covered his face for moment
with his hand, and then said, in a low
measured tone: '.Yes we must part!"
and then, with the energy of despair, he
added: ''How can l, poor unknown
artist, aspire to the hand of a rich heiress,
and the daughter of a noble bouseP 1t
were madness to think of it,, Let US part
this union is impossible -
Lydia still stood before him, her hands
clasped.
"How can you-how can you say that
we must part!' she cried.
Nolkmar grew paler, and seemed less
decided as to the course he should pursue.
You will break my heart" said he, af-
| ter moments S hesitation. "Can so be-
tray the confidence your relations have re-
posed in me? Can | reconcile it to my
honor, yes, to my love, to unite you, to
whom the world lies open. to my uncer-
tain fortunes? Might you not some day
regret the sacrifice you had made at a
moment when you were governed by feel
ing rather than by reason?''
Lydia looked Volkmar full in the face
for moment, while the tears chased one
another rapidly down her cheeks then,
turning away, he said, in tone full of
feeling,
Farewell, then; those were bitter
words, but forgive you, for you can have
no idea how they pain me-"
The young man watched her intently as
she turned toward her easel, and, with
nervous haste, began to put away her
and undecided for some minutes. Finally
he broke silence by asking in low. ear
nest tone
| Lydia, will you be mine ?''
My old friend paused. She had rested
her head on her hand and seemed lost in
recollection, until she resumed her narra-
tive by saying,
And so they were betrothed."
Lydia succeeded in quieting all Volk-
mars scruplcs with regard to the differ
ence in their respective social positions.
She told him that she was alone in the
world, that in two years she would be
mistress of her own. and then could an
nounce her betrothal without fear.
On one point only the-artist was immov-
able-that there should be no communica-
ton between them during the two years
he proposed to spend in Italy. Lydia was
so Young, he said, that she could not know
fully her own heart he would not have
her consider herself as irrevocably bound
to him.
Here" said he, when Lydia had finally
acceded to all his demands, ''here, We
will divide this bunch ofviolets in two parts
as souuenir of this hour; if you, Lydia,
should some day come to think that you
cannot make me the sacrifice which you
now so unselflshly consent 10 niaAe' thch
send these flowers back to me. Not one
word of reproach shall ever escape my
lips. will submit to my fate without
murmur, and the recollection OF this hour
shall be the only balsam for my blighted
hopes. Will you, also, consent to this ?'
II will. provided you will make me a
similar promise. And l have no tears;
our poor violets will make no journeys,
but our thoughts will make many, trust.
You will sometimes think of this hour and
of me, will YOU not ?" she added, in n
lower tone.
"As long as live and breathe !" the
young artist replied,
1t was evening. Lydia stood at the
window and looked dreamily out into the
night. The moon shed her silver rays ON
the dark foliage of the garden, and made
the pebbled walks appear like white, shin
ing ribbons. The crickens ehirped gayly
in the grass. and on the farther side Of The
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