Litchfield enquirer., 1875-07-15


 and beheld his excellences glorifed in the halo reflected upon them from the beauty and poetry of her own nature, I would not then tell her he was not the perfect being he appeared to her; but comfort ed her with those religious thoughts I knew had strongest power to soothe and gladden. her. Then, and afterward. watched her jealously to see if this unex- pected trial-the severest a woman can for moment her faith in the Infinite love and goodness. An no Her hand, indeed, trembled; but she held the cup without a. murmur, and drank the bitter draught. How often, amidst all that defaces the Christian name, have I thanked God for her, sweet Amy who showed me so clearly the existence of peace the world gives not and has no pow CT to take away.
 MT. Blakesley had gone away for fort night, and l was glad of his absence, as 1t gave Amy time to recover her usual seren- ity, and have opportunity to watch and determine what l should do. to promote her happiness. .-... - One afternoon, near the sunset hour, l left her busily engaged over German les son, while went forth on my daily walk. It had been one of those mild, dull days when the quickening earth seems to pause and take breath for the labor before her. A thin haze, through which a dazzling light struggled. had hidden the sun all day, and now, while the light withdrew slowly, the haze remained, and 8 strong wind coming in from the sea rushed, shriek1ng, up the precipice, and, with shrill cries, away over the sere fields. turned towards the ocean and saw that, far in the horizon, the haze dipped down into the water, and knew the fog would soon come creeping on the land, plotting out sound and sight in one eencompassing dead white cloud. But was accustomed to it ,noWj and, at times, l1t suited my moods better than sunshine. . 2
 l went down steep path that wound to the foot of the preclpice and sat down on a boulder, which, in some former age, the waves had worn into rude semblance of a chair. I had not been there many min. utes, listening to what the waves said and gazing dreamily upon the level, heaving mass of waters, when a step on the gravel caused me to turn and see MT. Blakesley approaching. He gave me his hand in friendly greeting, and seated himself on the rock near me.
 'I inquired for you at the house," he said, ''and they told me should find you here".
 ''Yes, I often come here; and I made a drawing of the place, that Amy might know how it looks."
 ''She showed it to me- It is a dreary picture scared gray rocks over- head, the melancholy expanse of ocean, with it's white waves breaking on the beach and one solitary figure crouehed here, lis tening to their monotonous roar. A dreary picture! doubt if it is good for you to allow yourself the.indulgence of such tastes"
 |. ''It might not have been at one time; now 1t does not hurt me. ......
 Perhaps so. have marked the change in your feelings since you came here, and have been thankful for it. You were very wretched when you came here.
 ''How did you know? never com plained'"
 '.No, you shut up your woe like fire in your own soul; and when it would have vent. you let it flame up against the throne of the Most High in curses"
 gave him quick glance, and asked, ''How did you know that?"
 Because heard you do it that night upon the sea. Your voice, your face, your figure impressed me too forcibly to be ever forgotten"
 ''I could not see your face, and did not think you saw mine."
 "You were seated, and thus, when you turned to look at me, the light fell on your face. Perhaps your mourning dress assisted the recognition; but knew you at once when l saw you in church, and al- most forgot what was about to say. l had thought of you so often meanwhile poor unhappy soul gone astray in the dark; and I thought God had sent you here that Knight be of benefit to you
 ''No." interrupted; ''another hand than yours has led me into peace"
 'tI have been aware of that also, and that you were sent here to benefit me-
 He paused. Imade no reply: and in a moment he went on rapidly, and asked me to be his wife.
 "Why do you make me that proposal?" I asked. was leaning forward, resting my head on one hand, with my eyes fixed on the sea.
 'Whyr' he repeated in tone of sur prise.
 'Yes-whye Be candid with yourself and with me. Examine your motives, and tell me what they are." @sa
 He was silent for short time, and I re- mained motionless, listening to that cease less requiem the ocean waves were chant ing. At length he answered.
 ''I will be candid. You merit it from me. am told by everyone that I need 8 wife-that could be much more useful with wife-and my own heart tells me the same story. need the ties of family to bind me to the great family of man, to un- loose my sympathies, to teach me to feel for others by myself experiencing what they feel. More than this; deep craving of my heart is unsatisfed. need such a friend and companion as only wife can be, to make my dwelling place a home. Such friend hope to find in you. We have feelings and tastes in common; I be- lieve we have equal esteem for each other; I hoped we might have mutual love.
 He spoke slowly and painfully. as if conscience was forcing him on, or he would not have owned so much. I breath more freely. My conjecture was right; he did not love me. I raised myself and looked into his eyes.
 "Mr Blakesley, before you went away you told this to Amy. Why did you do so?"
 He started, and his face, which had been very pale, flushed deep crimson.
 t'She told youl' he calculated.
 ''I knew it-no matter how. Amy was not in fault. But why did you tell her? You see am very calm. You know my heart died long ago, and I can never mar ry simply because love. Can you SUD- ply other motives? Let us discuss this subject fairly, as friends should" yd
 paused, but he made no reply; and I added, i-J ss..-@ '--'
 ''You ask me to be your wife, and yet hesitate to open your heart to me so much as to answer this one question: Let me help you. You told Amy because you like to consult her upon any project you have in, hand. ,Your thoughts turn. nat urally to her. Her advice is always pleas. ing to you" an - '..i3sf 7
 '"Yes. you are right sr.t
 '"And because you wished particularly to know what she would say, how she would look, when you told her this.'' e
 He cast his eyes down as spoke, and the sweat stood in great drops on his fore head. I knew I tortured him: but it was