Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1874-08-19

Well, Tileston !, lucky dog"
"What do you mean 7" said Ralph, with
an agitation he could scarcely conceal.
why don't you know9 They have
been engaged three years. Capt. Tilcston
went with Frank Evans to Springfield, and
met this girl there--Franks cousin, you
know. II was all up with him from the
FIRST time he saw her. The day was fixed
for their wedding, but Tileston had severe
hemorrhage Of the lungs, and the doctors
said nothing would save him but travel.
lie looks we'll enough now"
"You kno,o all this, Charley9 It's no
mere rumor ?" Ralph'a hand was on his
friends arm.
Know it2" Charley stared. You
don't want me to take my oath on it, do
you9 BY Jove. Ralph, body would
suppose you were personally interested J"
Poor Ralph The chance shot recalled
him to his senses. lie sank back again in
his seat, essaying a faint reflection Of Char
ley's quzzical smile. lie sat through the
hour too utterly stunned to realize anything
beyond a vague, terrible sense Of loss-only
knowing the lecture over by the tumult Of
applause that burst forth, and the noise Of
the audience rising to 20 out. Once in the
street, it was an unexpected relief that
Mark launched out into an animated crit
icism of the speakers opinions, too eager
himself to notice the abstraction Of his
listener.
Before the dawn Of the morning that
followed that sleepless night, the first tu.
multuous surges Of grief had passed, and
Ralph looked his trouble in the face, and
resolved to bear it like the brave fellow that
he was. lie did not reproach Eta now,
though the temptation had been a sore one
at first; doubtless she supposed the fact Of
her engagement too widely known to have
had thought of caution only foolish
blindness could have made him mistake the
kindness which her noble heart prompted
towards oil alike, for something more per-
sonal and tender. Then, how could she
know he had loved herr He never told
her so, he thought, bitterly, although in
those few months she had grown to be such
a part of all his life, that as yethc was too
weak to think Of the desolate years that
seemed to stretch endlessly before him
without her. Life was made up OF mo-
ments-he could bear them, one by one, till,
by and by, may be, strength should come
with endurance.
Flint, senior, was waiting for him as he
went in.
"a few minutes conversation, if you
please, Mr.. Field" he said.
Ralph followed him to the Office What
new leaf in his book of fate would be
turned this timer
Mr.. Flint was man Of few words, and
the expression Of warm commendation with
which he grasped Ralph's hand, and drew
him into q chair beside him, meant very
much, coming from him. There had been
letters by the last nights steamer--tht
Paris agency was vacant-some one mus'
20 on Immediately. There was no on'
whom he could trust more implicitly thar
Mr.. Field-no one Of whose success h'
should feel more proud. Would Mr.. Fiel(
take the placer
Poor Ralph's cheek flushed for one mo
ment with glow Of honest pride; then
with bitter pang, came the thought
"TIow much this would have been worth t.
me yesterday; but to-day"
81 am very grateful for the honor yo'
pay me, Mr.. Flint" he said ii have trie'
to do my duty-l will try still. thanl
you-I will CO."
And 80 il was settled
Busy in his rooms, that night, wit
preparations 1or mis- journey, Ralph .eol
from his desk little packet, touching
tenderly and sadly, as one might gather
flower of grave. The pretty handker
chief, withered rose or two.-that wa
all. Was he less manly that few tear
fell silently, poor drops that could brin
back no fresh bloom TO the faded blossoms
Turning with a sudden impulse, he too
pen and paper. 1t was little letter, tb
last wall of dying hope.
Eta, my Etta-T had thought to say, but u
time lor that has gone by-God forgive me II shorl
ever beat. love you too truly not to rejoice thl
you are happy and would not have one sad thougi
Of me come In TO cloud your perfect sunlight.
heard last night for the FIRST time, Of your engagemel
to Capt Tiles,son. May God 6lessyou both now At
ii write because am going away, and fear ca
not come in person to say good bye, The firm sem
me TO Paris God knows 4 shall ever come ba.
New Hampshire hills are all that is len me Of Il
! home of my youth, and shall never know another:
" Eta, my liic my darling-forgive me II Is 4 (
. tho last time-good bye. RALPH flkLD''
I. Going out to mail his note next mornin
!, Ralph met Frank Evans at the door. enthl
5 siastc over yachting party, togo out th'
day.
Cant you get away, Ralph2 III
! sent you an invitation. It'ssglorious day
d and just our set invited. I'm going baC
to the house to tell the girls and Capt. ii
}. eston-he is stopping with us--to tai
the eleven O'Clock car for the Point. You
!, got"
"No, Frank, can't. Thank you, b.
z! its impossible !"
II "Pshaw! Ralph, don't be drudg'
Is Do come!"
!. Ralph saw that his friend had hea
|. nothing Of his prospective business chang
d but he was in no mood for confidence. !
said
q 81 would like to CO. If it were best b
s it is not. You were on your way hor
Is you SAID
,t yes"
g "Will you give this to your cousin
a handing him the note.
ie "Yes certainly" and Frank thrust it
t, his vest pocket. GOOD bye, Ralph; you
ID regret staying ashore to-day"
OF THE week passcd-Ralph Field sail
4. for Paris. Lou Evans pouted her prei
ut lips, in disgust at his impolitonoss--"Nev
ly called to say good bye--just left his !
grets with Frank, and tell the ladies
T. had been so busy. Busy, indeed Ms
=; ing up for the lost time Of the winter
or suppose. Etta,' with sudden illumi'
to ton, 81 do believe you are at the bott
cd Of this"
Iir But Eta Stuart's countenance told no tai
he The long visit came to an end, and Il
It, went home again. Her mother said o.
Of and over, 3" You are not we'll, my da
ing. The change has not been good
ed you" And Eta answered, Il am ",
an mother dear, but little tired and 50 g
IN TO come back. Home is so sweet and r'
Ie. full. don't think l can ever wish to le'
&c. it again.
lat But the home that Eta loved prov
be but transient resting place. Her moth
Tor never strong, faded slowly out Of life, |
nd the first snow fell on her grave. Her
ad ther. after two wears Of mourning for