Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1876-07-08
EDWARD BYRON,s OPPORTUNITY.

would almost nave pictured aer some
fancied saint.
Edward Byron was leaning against
the window tall handsome young
man. with dark eyes and hair and a
brown cheek flushed deeply with sup
pressed anger and modification.
Yes, Mr.. Byron, it is, said Jessie
calmly, lifting her clear eyes to his
face. You have asked me for my
reasons, and although question your
right to make such a demand, still l
have no objection to give them.
Speak on, said Edward furiously
biting his lip, 'let me know why l am
condemned.
'sThey are soon spoken, said Jessie
quietly, have liked you very much
Mr.. Byron-I still like you-but in the
man whom l marry l look for greater
firmness and decision of purpose than
you have ever dispiayed-earnestness,
resolve, these are onl ~ qualities that |
can respect. Do not misunderstood
me-do not suppose that blame you
for the lack of qualifications which
which,"
Jessie paused instinctively, while
the pomegranate tinge on her cheek
blazed the vivid scarlet in sympathy
with the deep flush that dyed her low
er's whole face. He bowed simply and
walked out of the room with firm,
naughty step.
Late in the evening he sat at his
window in New York, with clenched
teeth and lowering brow, watching the
fiery ambers of sunset into simple pur-
pie gloom, and noting the silver feet of
innumerable consultations as they fol-
low one another over the blue black
concave of heaven. But the glow of
the sun and stars might have been
Egytian darkness for all that he knew
and cared about their gentle influence.
Life, The murmured darkly to him
self, what is it worth to me now?
What care / who wins the glittering
prizes in Fate's lottery, or who is en-
gulphed in the whirlpool of dispair ?
To be rejected, and for mere within
twol If | could only forget her as
quickly as she will forget me-the
tickle. beautiful enchsntress"
X
Halo, Byron, I'm going up to call
on Jessie Vernon. Will you come,
too?
Captain Marshall has paused under
the window and his brown merry face
turned upward, and the dim gas-lamp
Pickering over his gold shoulder
straps.
Byron shook his head, saying: Not
this evening"
And Marshall went on his way the
fire of his cigar cleaning through the
the darkness
"There he goes" muttered the mis-
anthrope, with his gilt buttons and
military air and graces And it is for
such as he that essie throws away my
love p
$50 you've enlisted, Edward ?" said
old Mr.. Vernon, deliberately polish
ing the glasses of his spectacles.
well, it's what I'd do myself if |
was forty years younger. Are you not
coming in to say to Jessie goodbye ?
Haven't time? Well l do declare 2"
Mr.. Vernon gazed in astonishnent
after Edward, who had been the most
constant companion of his Jessie for
the last three years, and on whom be
would willingly have bestowed her
hand.
Il wonder what Jessie will say?
Was his unspoken comment.
But Jessie said nothing, while day by
day the old wound ranked and grew
sorer in Edward Byron's heart.
Twill he live, Doctor?"
"Live?" Why shouldn't he? All
he needs is little care, and | see he
is likely to get that Now, don't
blush, my dear, he's not the first wound
ed soldier in my ward that has had
pretty girl come to nurse him, and |
like them the better for it? Give
him the draught when he wakes, and
keep the bandage on his forehead.
He'll probably carry an ugly scar to
his grave, but then that will be the
worst of it.
The good old man trotted away to
the next case, while Jessie, kneeliDg
down by the bed, cried tears of iptense
thankfulness that Edward Byron
would not die. Jessie! | am not
dreaming-surely-yet it was but
moment ago that we made the cavalry
! charge on-fxed bayonets ~
His large unnaturally brilliant eyes
wondered vaguely around the room,
then returned to the tender face bend
ing over him.
1t was three days since, Edward.
You are living in the barrack now,
wounded-and L have come from Ma
sonville to nurse you?'
"You, Jessie?"
Yes, Edward, ="
why did you GOMEZ he asked
gloomily.
Because | love you, Edward, Ishe
murmured, the bright crimson sutfus
ing her whole face.
A strange light of rapture flashed
into Edwards eyes-his pulse lesped
within the fevered vein.
Love me, Jessie yet it is not a
month since you refused me.
Dearest, because | fancied you
weak, vacillating. In the frey smoke
of the battle field you have proved
yourself worthy of the tenderest love
you have written your name, Hero,
on the rolls of our country. Edward,
because refused you once, you will
not reject me nOw?'
Reject you, my hearts queen? Oh,
Jessie how can ] be sure that this is
not bright, treacheFoGs delirium ?"
She bent her soft cheek on his. and
| he knew that it was no baneful vision,
/ but sweet reality.
"Then you did not care for Captain
Marshall, after all z
II never cared for any one but you,
] Edward
Aud, when September hung her
crown of purple mist over the hills,
Edward Byron came home to be mar
ried still handsome, although bis
forehead bore q fresh scar across its
broad expanse.
When his friends asked curiously if
it was lifelong mark, Edward an
swered gaily, Il would not lose it for a
fortune; that scar won NE q wife %
''Bub can you direct ne to dye
shop ?" said man to q boot black.