Beaufort Republican. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1871-1873, 1873-03-06


triumphant; and Pansy smiled and
danced again, and nobody could resist
the infection of her fresh, girlish Joy.
No more from Tom Gordon; only, we
heard incidentally that he was working
hard, and sure to distinguish himself
later, that he had gone to Europe on
some law business.
think Pansy scarcely noticed this
news. Max had urged a speedy mar
riage, and we were all frantically busy On
the trousseau.
But one day Sue, looking up from the
bit of dainty muslin in her hands, said,
gravely: :,
"Kitty, did you ever think that all
our pett;ng had made Pansy little
lust little-selfish ?"
1 Ismiled, with tears in my eyes. Dear,
generous Sue! Who so slow to accuse
others as those who are themselves the
salt of the earth?
The bridal-day came on apace. The
preparations were splendid. Max lived
| like a prince, and it seemed as II he
thought nothing too good for Pansy:
1t irked us to rest under the obllga-
tion of so many magnificent presents,
and we all declared we'd rather live on
bread and water for q year after the
marriage than to do 80.
Papa was quite of the same mind,
and SO he diminished his modest for
tune to buy us fnery, and decorate the
house for the wedding.
Max was to be busy in town till the
last minute, only coming up to lunch
with us the day before.
We were all ready then, and Pansy
was in futter of excitement.
When the noon came she tripped
down to the station to meet him.
We had NIL gathered in the dining
room fifteen minutes afterward, when
she came in with face winter than
death, and trembling from head to foot.
She had slip of paper in her hand,
which somebody took from her just as
she dropped fainting on the floor.
1t was q telegram. Two brief, be-
wildering sentences.
"The wedding must be postponed.
Countermand the invitations, and wait
for my explanation.
Papa went straight to town by the
next train. Pansy shut herself up away
from us. We huddled together, a miser-
able group, all the afternoon.
At dark the awful suspense was bro
ken by the still more awful truth.
Max Kennan was defaulter, and had
from the city. The papers rang with
it, for the amount was almost fabulous,
and the position of tho oulprit a very
high one.
Papa came walking slowly up from
the station, new weight of years upon
him.
"Tell her gently" he sobbed, when
he had related the shameful story.
Pansy heard, her white face scarcely
changing.
"Then he loves mel" she suddenly
exclaimed at the end.
"But he has disgraced himself and
us all, and you must never think OF HIM
again !" cried Sue. .
Pansy did not hear her. A smile
flashed across her face.
"He hasn't deserted me !" she cried,
and then broke into tempest of sobs.
She cried long, long, time in NAM
mas arms. and then said, weakly, that
she would go upstairs, ] land would we~be
good enough not to disturb her again
that night.
We sat together till late, going over
the wretched facts. When at last we
retired, L was strangely nervous. l
longed to go to Pansy, but dared not.
Once I fancied 1 heard slight noise
under her window, then 4 confused MUIR
mur of voices. I opened my window,
which looked from the same wall. All
was white, silent, and moonlit. Perhaps
the ripening peaches had tempted some
pilfering boys.
The air was dewy and fresh. Iclosed
the window quickly, and went to bed.
and the rest of the night passed in con-
fused dreams.
With the early daylight I awoke, came
to an instant comprehension OF. the blow
which had fallen upon us, and rising
hastily, went with light steps to Pansy's
room.
There I stopped short, in fright and
amazement, and involuntarily cried out
The room was empty, the window oper
upon little balcony, and glove
dropped just outside, showed the way
she went.
Not word, not even short note.
None of us will ever forget that day
Toward night came letter, mailed from
New York. We must forgive her, she
said. She had been married to Max
and before we read the words should be
on the ocean.
Nowhere did the brief letter show any
adequate sense of the wrong she was
doing us all.
Well, all life's woes are lived over
somehow. 1t aged papa a good deal
and mammals roses never came back.
Bus in a year we were peacefully hap
py, seldom speaking of Pansy, and thcr
as if we had lost her by death.
Tom Gordon returned, and came tc
see us. He was changed-graver
sterner, little of the old hoyish bon
homie gone.
Thinking so one day as I watchec
him, my eyes suddenly filled with tears
"What is it, Kitty?"
"The old wrong" I whispered.
He came to me suddenly, and tool
me in his arms.
"Will you make it up to me, Kitty
That is what 1 came here to ask.
His voice trembled with tender pas
sion, and then I knew how long and
dearly had loved him.
And Pansy? She came to seeus once
at Geneva, when Tom and were around
1;tt1o foded and worn but beautifu'