Wilmington journal., 1875-09-17
NO. 46

AsOSAhoAA LIS 6Udy III lIlt
country, declaring that he needed {
vacation, and was out in the morning
betimes, fishing in the neighborine
streams for sunfsh, and gathering
| wild flowers and ferns; coming back
at sundown somewhat abstracted in
his manner, but sallying forth again
the next day.
"Pamela declined to join these ex-
cursions, as the sun and wind together
would have made sad havoc with her
complexion-as they would with yours,
my dear, you very we'll know. But
there are compilations, Belle, that the
sun takes to kindly enough, and paints,
with magical brush, the wind putting
| in crimson that was never found even
upon the palette of Sir Joshua Rey-
nolds.
"Upon the May festival, which was
arranged late in the month as q fare
| we'll celebration for Pamela and her
betrothed, the beauty of sweet Jessie
Downes seemed to our pale patrician
OF the city like something almost su-
pernatural. She called to Reginald
time and again to tell her if he had
ever conceived of SO glowing and vivid
a lOveliness, and could not take her
eyes from a head that made the sweet
blossoms with which it was crowned
seemed faded and dull by compari-
son.
'The day grew somewhat chill to-
ward evening, and in the hollow of the
wood where Pamela wandered alone,
it seemed to her that the wind whis-
Ting among the trees arose to a kind
of sob that was almost human in it's
intensity. And as she walked along,
half anxious now to escape from sol
itude that seemed reopled with melan-
choly sounds, she i-oard murmur of
voices close at hand, just beyond the
little thickst that barred her progress.
''It Is so hard to say goodbye, my
sweet child, said voice in the world
to Pamela. You have crept into my
heart, warming and blessing it,
''And shall never see you again p
sobbed little Jessie Downes.
" Nay, darling, how can [ tell
Perhaps when this sweet madness is
cured
''And then, Belle, poor Pamela
heard no more. A blessed uncon-
sciousness seized her, and for the first
time in her life she tainted. Not the
last alas since that moment of
agony her nervesi have been SO strung
and upon the recurrence of certain
sounds or certain remembrances she
loses herself for time. A little while
ago, when you pictured that scene in
the WOO is, it put into words that bit
Of the past; 1 saw again the mosses
aud ferns at my feet, the little black
pool of water half covered with with
cred leaves, and I heard the dull sound
or discordant croak of the frogs.
'fWhen, upon that time long ago,
awoke to consciousness, Reginald was
bending over me with white stricken
face, and all the rest were busy with
possets and restoratives in my behalf.
when we were left alone together,
and 1 found that Reginald hoped |
was unconscious of all, was tempted
to accept this negative happiness held
out to me by a niggardly destiny; but |
he begged of me, with persistency |
which [ interpreted in my own way, to |
follow him as quickly as possible to
the city, whittier he was going the fol- |
lowing morning.
You may as well remain, said.
avail nothing. Seek your happiness
has never been dependent upon mine. |
"'And if you did, he broke in,
what then? They were the first fond |
oues ever said to her, and these were
wruug from me by her sorrow for our
parting. never meant to do you |
wrong, Pamela, and was not disloyal |
to You in heart. It was mad, foolish |
impulse; forgive it. pray you. Do |
not let this one fault make misery for |
both our lives. [ will promise never
to see her again.
"'And io you think, cried, shat |
her agony will mend mine p
Nonsense, Pamela; it is not in a !
nature like hers to suffer long
"'But it is in a nature like mine,' I |
said. Nevertheless, Reginald, Vick-
ers, your path and mine lie apart hence
forth and forever!
"'Be it so, then, his face whitening
to his lips. sLet yonr pride be the
cause, as it has always been. Had you
been less cold, / had not sinned against
u love strong and perfect at It's birth,
but stinted and starved every day that
[ lived. / beg of you, as you at least
value the peace of others, to breath no
word of this to our cousin Ephriam ;
he is a good fellow, and deserves well
Of happiness. Let him win and wear
wild blossom, as pure and sweet, his
help me Heaven as when first he |
found it. AS for me, I will trouble
you no more !"
HE went, and with him went the
rest of my life; for though / am
nearly fifty years old, I only lived to
the age of twenty. It was fortunate at
least, that mine was the only life be
reft {: for Reginald married five years
after, and Jessie took up the thread of
her love for Ephraim where it could |
be SO readily mended that my honest |
cousin never knew it was broken"
Dear me, Aunt PAM" said Belle,
her eyes full of tears, ''in all those five
years, before he married that other
woman, why didn'ty you make up? Why
don't you write to him, or fall IN his
way somehow, or pretend that you
wanted to consult him as a lawyer :"
81 was too proud, Belle" said Aunt
Pamela, brushing the tears from the
young eyes looking wistfully into her
own. And then there was clatter at
the door, and Jack came bounding up
the stairs two at a time, leaping from
the landing into the parlor, and taking
Aunt Pamela and Belle into one hearty
embrace. 1t was noticeable that Belle
found no fault with this lack of dignity,
nor found Jack too demonstrative.
"How jollyit is here, Aunt Pamela,
said that ardent young lover: "Belle
is like a blamed icicle at the house
yonder, and L never had any yearnlHg
toward the polar regions.