The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1876-06-02

believe, to the city people Came back to
London dined at the Pail Mall went to
the club. Got back to chambers late. Wrote
a column--Review. A weary, weary day.
Shall | never know moments forgetful-
ness ?'
He drew then from the leaves of the diary
| a letter. written in a delicate feminine hand,
and addressed, "Arthur Seton, ESQ.,, IL
Gray's Inn" This letter he regarded with
long, sad, loving look then, resting his
head on his hand, he read it through very
| slowly. 1t ran as follows:
MY DEAR ARTHUR.-If you will be so
suspicious, so jealous and exacting, can
| not see how we are ever to be happy. Faith
without works is dead, and love without faith
is no blessing, but weary burden am
| tired of cross words and dark looks. Some
women, | believe, like the feverish excite
ment of quarrels, but I only wish for peace.
This misera bic, petty jealousy is quite un-
worthy ofyou. Do try and put it from you
and remember that love once wounded is
sometimes hurt past hope of recovery. 1
received your article quite safely, but can
not speak about it now. You haye made
me too sad and too weary, and even little
indignant.
Yours, affectonately,
ALICE CLAREFIELD.
WELL HOUSE, Richmond, Oct, 1871.
He replaced the letter, closed the diary,
took up his pipe and began smoking. The
early part of this day had been fine and
mild, but toward the afternoon the sky grew
all at once leaden, and the wind shifted to
the northeast. Now the wind was rising
and the rain was falling-a cold penetrat-
ing, impetuous determined rain. The
country which but a brief while since looked
so fair in a bland October sunlight, now
seemed a thing to shudder at. The dun
colored woods, wet and forlorn, seemed to
have no hope of any returning summer, and
to know the utter desolation of the end. 1t
was impossible indeed, to imagine that in
the green, soaking fields, where now few
COWS were huddling together and lowing
disconsolately, glad children could ever have
tossed each other in the warm, sweet-smel-
ling hay the rain drove drearily against the
window, and the wind shrieked around the
house, and occasionally thundered in the
chimney, and at the bar, where, in spite Of
wet weather, Mr.. Hunter seemed to be doing
a brisk business for ale corks popped con-
tinuously, aud pewters clanked audibly, as
the men set them down ON the slabs and
the great wagons numbered by, or drew up
ponderously in front of the door, and while
the drivers avaled themselves of the "Green
Dragons hospitality, the large, broad backed
horses beat the miry road with heavy hoofs,
There was not much to occupy mans
thoughts in the dreary little bar-parlor. A
great variety Of whips hung against the wall,
and over the mantlepiece was photograph
of fine chestnut mare. Under it was writ
ten: "Beng Mr.. Hunters favorite mare,
who died in her fourteenth year" A short
way on was a photograph OF Mrs. Hunter,
in full holiday costume A large Bible and
photograph album lay upon the table.
Seton mechanically opened the album.
" Here was a tinted photograph of young
: girl, with profuse gold ringlets, large, round
face and meaningless blue eyes. Under it
n was written presented to Miss Hunter
by her ahectionate friend, Isabella Gran"
Poor Isabella! how many honest country
hearts, wonder, had she caused to ache
E, while the hair was gold and the buxom fig
ure still shapely?
For want of something better to do Senton
began to write a letter but he made slow
way with it. For minutes together he sal
2 holding the pen lstlessy in his handl lean.
ing his arm wearily upon the table, listen
ing, as we all listen when alone, to wha
sounds may be going on near us, from feel
!. ing which is not curiosity, but more over
20 powering,
= Suddenly what must have been very
n light vehicle dashed swiftly down the roaC
a and drew up with great precision at the doc
q Of the "Green Dragon" while the voice of ;
"a newcomer became audible. Seton, howevel
! could only catch few disconnected word
Il such as Caught in the rain-delicate
d er-Chiselhurst-a closed carriage"
Then the door opened the landlord pre-
q sented himself upon the threshold, and said
| in very pointed manner "If you please
sir, a young lady driving over to Sevenoak
- in light, open trap has been caught in thu
rain and her servant wants to know if cal
n give her a sitting-room while he drives bac
20 to Chiselhurst for close carriage"
II "And this is the only one you hay e ~ re
:. joined Seton. ooh ask her in by all means
"a However, am sorry the room smells so o
4 smoke" he added, knocking the ashes from
W his pipe,
"Don't you mention it, sir, and thanl
a you very mucl," replied the landlord, re
10 tiring.
Il In another moment the door opened agai
and the unexpected intruder entered-a lad
r tall and very graceful, having a pale Madon
ma like face, and gold hair shining like a
- aureole round a small classical head.
Setons face had grown white to the lip
l. and his voice quivered perceptiby, as, ex
n tending his hand, he said
n, "Ihs is Il veIy unexpected meeting"
10 "Very unexpected meeting" echoed tn
lady, removing her wet mantle, and sittin
=. down on the worn leather sofa The re
cogntion had been mutual but women,
at a rule, are more self-composed than men,
,,s LET me recommend this chair" said 81
ton, laying his hand upon the one fro
,n which he had just arisen.
n. "No, thank you, | prefer sitting avs
20 from the fire."
"a. 81 am sorry the room should smell so
re tobacco" observed Seton, after pause, "b
you see did not expect the pleasure of
nd visitor"
an She smiled rather forced smile by ",
er. of answer, and Seton folded elaborately al
ed put into an envelope a sheet of blank p
ar. per.
ok "The country is very beautiful aroul
lid here" he observed, Writing his own nar