Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1875-10-28

plan of action. would write to DR.. Ward
| law, and tell;him exactly how matters stood
would own that returned his affection, but
ask him to wait patiently, for my sake, until
more propitious time for us to bind our.
selves by an engagement. In the interval,
trusted that papa might change his mind, or
that might be able to influence him IN our
favor.
This resolution taken, I felt more easy, and
was able to look and speak like myself. Papa
regarded me several times with an earnest
look, as if endeavoring to discover the cause
of my restored equaninity; but was deter
mined to say nothing until my letter was
written, unless was asked any questions
Iwent upstairs Immediately after break
fast, leaving to Aunt Patty the ministration
of all household affairs, and set myself to the
task of composing that important letter. 1t
was harder than I had imagined, to express
it in terms that would convey to him right
impression of my feelings, without saying
either more or less than thought desirable.
After two hours of painstaking. [ finally sue
ceeded in producing satisfactory result. 1t
was not much like a love-letter-not like
what I had always fondly anticipated my first
love letter would be.
My next duty was to tell nay father what
had done. Accordingly l went down stairs,
where I chanced to encounter him in the hall,
just preparing to 60 out.
"Papa," I said, timidly, 81 have written my
letter"
He went on brushing his hat in quick,
nervous manner, without looking at me.
II LII Iolo h,o
"And I have told him the truth" con.
tinued, gathering courage as went on.
"Be little more explicit" he rejoined,
after waiting moment, and finding that l
stopped there.
Il have told him he must wait-that can
not engage myself to him now-that | could
not leave you yet"
"Not leave me yet," he echoed, with bitter
emphasis. "Then you have made up your
mind to leave meat some future time Be
it 80. I am glad to know the worst at once"
"Papa," I said, sorrowfully; "you are very
hard on me- You bid me do as please, and
then reproach me-"
"Reproach you, child don't reproach
you. What word of reproach have | said ?"
"If you don't wish me to send that letter, |
will not. Perhaps you had better write to
him, instead"
"Of course shall write to him, under any
circumstances. Common politeness demands
that I should not leave his communication
unanswered. But that has nothing to do with
your writing"
"Would you rather have me write him
different sort of letter."
Il would rather, you should do just as you
please. Either you mean to marry him or you
do not mean to marry him which is TT"
II cannot give him up" | answered, falter-
ingly: :,
no more talk about it now." He strobe to.
ward the door, then turned suddenly, and
coming back to where stood, caught me in
his arms and kissed me. "Child child" he
said brokenly, "You do not know how love
you"
burst into tears but he quickly unclasped
my hands, put me gently away from him, and
was gone in an instant.
| did not see his letter to DR.. Wardlaw. |
only knew that mine went in the same enclos-
ure. and that they were mailed that very
evening.
Those were restless, anxious days that en-
sued could bind my thoughts to none Of
my usual occupations, but wandered aimlessly
about, sometimes picking up book and CLAN
cling in desultory fashion through its pages
then listlessly putting few stitches in piece
of work, but most often dreaming through the
golden autumn days, waiting, hoping, won.
dering what the end would be. The time |
had allowed for receiving an answer to my
letter, came and passed. grew uneasy at
DR.. Wardlaws silence. Was he too deeply Of
Tended to make any reply? What had papa
written to him? longed, with an impatience
that grew almost intolerable for some token
that he appreciated my position, and would
give me the help needed.
My father though he never made any al.
lusion to the subject of my disquietude, Gn-
deed it had become, by mutual consent, ta-
booed subject had never been kinder to me
than now He sought, by hundred name
less little attentions, to testify his fondness
for me and his anxiety to give me pleasure.
He brought me new music. new books he
gave me beautiful pony, and took me to ride
every afternoon. In short, he left nothing un.
done which he fancied might divert my mind
and arouse me from my moodiness and ab-
straction I was grateful to him, but my
heart could not respond as readily to his ad-
vances as it had once done. A chord had
been rudely Jared, which vibrated yet and
spoiled the harmony of all my inner being;
and it was his hand which had created the
dscord-a hand which l had once thought
could never be lifted to give me pain.
II l was unhappy, however, he was at least
equally so. I could see that, notwithstanding
his efforts to appear as usual, he acquired
care worn look that was not habitual to him !;
and | fancied that his steps were slower, and
his hair more gray than formerly.
One evening my father and | were sitting
iu the parlor as usual He had been reading
aloud some extracts which he thought would
interest me, from book he had that day
brought home, ard was now expressing his
own opinion of their merit, and trying to
draw forth mine. I was listening and an
swering mechanically, when the sound of ap-
preaching horses feet fell on my ear.
"Can that be visitor, so latep' 1 ex-
claimed
Scarcely" he replied. "There is no one
who is likely to come at such an hour. 1t is
probably message of some sort"
The next moment, the hall.bell rang. |
heard servant 60 to the door, and then the
tone of voice that made me start sending a
thrill of ofmingled pain and delight all through
me- My fathers eyes and mine met. He,
too, heard and recognized the voice, for it
was one not easily forgotten. Before | had
time to recover from the sudden tumult of
feeling into which was thrown, the parlor
door was opened, and DIR. Wardlaw entered
| I never knew exactly what sort of preetinp