Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1874-07-25

once in the long ago, as Robert He
| lots trusted wife should meet him
coldly aud unblenchingly, and ended
by making herself charming IN white
null dress with an early carnatiOn ly-
/ ing in the brown braids.
After all, lie had the good taste To
remain away, and sitting alone listen
7 ing TO the monotous ticking of Of the
seconds. She grew quite nervous,
and met her big. grave Robert, as she
sometimes called him with a hysteri
cal sob Of delight.
care yoa not well, dear: How hot
your hands are. Something has an
Royed my girl"
If only she had told him then, but
he looked grayer than usual, and more
tired, and the talk was artfully led in
to different channel, and in 4 fews
days they were apart.
It would be so much easier to write
it she had thought, but this was hard
er than anything. and the letter was
never written. She wrote, however, to
Hettie, who had remained in town,
telling her that he was then at Needle
Point, and that the party had planned
for the White Mountains. i dislike to
run because we have been friends and
are so no longer, and after all we meet
very seldom.
Hettie Lockridge wrote long let
ter in reply TO this, full of unpleas-
ant thing, and wound up by begging
Aggie to come home, that Robert was
falling inte- ", ,health, and looked
WE eflsaav 4Eaza
Ils 81 rs-ll j. n es-sl1aA Sitt ~.
the HcIes party had been gone 80
days, and was not immediately - for
warded.
And now it was impossible to avoid
Mr.. Give.
And people had revived stories
about that long ago, when everybody
coupled the names of these two to-
gether, and decided that they would
marry.
'T do not see why you should feel
cruelty toward me, Mrs. Helot," he
had said one day when they had got
ten lost down a strange path. why
in heavens name cannot we be
friends. / wonder when the fates
shall be tired waging war against me?''
"Yo on know as well as do, Mr..
Give, that we are no more enemies
than we are friends. / don't see why
we should assume to be one or the
other. It IS best to be strangersl"
That is impossible, you know. 1 do
not claim, thank God, TO be a hero
out of novel. am simply a man."
Then be one, and leave me to my
SELF she had replied fiercely.
'eYou do not wish it."
'sDo You say soS"
Eyes" with a slight sneer.
'sYou arc less a hero or man if you
viii, than / thought you," and she
very nearly ran TO covert like a scared
deer, feeling dreadfuliy guilty and
wretched, and fully determined to go
home to the man who so entirely low
ed and believed in her.
She had felt too conscience-stricken
to delay this step, and Hettie's letter
came at length, and made her wild /
with apprehension.
o, if be should have died, and she !
so wicked and thoughtlessl what
could she ever make. Had
she ever loved Robert Helot with q 1
love commensurate to his own, she |
asked herself, the hot tears streaming |
through her fingers, during the long /
nights ride, in which she was borne |
toward that home she felt she should /
not have left. She had never loved 4
him as n0W when-but she dared not /
think of that awful thing which God /
might bring to her as a lust rebuke. /
The house was dark, save a light in |
his chamber, which betokened a
at least he was not dead. |
She fed past Hettie, who met her,
and fell on her knees beside the sick
mans bed, and burst into an agony /
ef tears.
She might haVo Doen Wild and way
ward but not positively wicked, and
she poured it all out with her head
bowed on his terribly pallid hand.
soU -Gre speaking Of Give, my 7
iariing, who has dared accuse my
wife? knew the story long ago, but
knew could trust you, dear. / am
)lder than you many years, and 1t
vas no doubt selfish III me to marry
iou, but I have tried to make you
Know how much you are to me. It is
lot so much your fault if you could
lot love me as 1 do you. should be
1 suppose"
''But 1 do love you, my darling,
more than l could love any one, and
never loved any other in all my life.
}, If you would believe me and take
ne into your confidence, as You never
lave."
The sick man WINGED at this and
ound strength to hold the bowed
read close against his breast. But he
.ould not tell her how near he had
'een to losing that money, which he
lad feared that she thought of before
linn. 1t was Hettie who did this af-
erwards, in words as cold and cut
ing as barbed icicles.
1t was happily over then, but Agnes
nut away her follies and lived less for
herself and fell in love over again
With her husband.