The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-05-25

you made life, all at once, pure and fair
and then, because some thorn in my love
hurt you, you threw it all away and left
me to perish miserably." She would
have interrupted him, but he silenced
her with a gesture and went on "and
now when we meet, after three years,
you ask me if I am happy9 Ii ! loved
you once, I shall love you forever. Do
I look happy2"
$ I think there we're faults on both
sides, /" she said quietly.
"Yes, perhaps there were, " he replied,
shut was reading your last letter over
only to-day. Oil how terribly bitter it
was y
"And have you forgotten your answer
to that letter2' she said, almost passion
ately, her voice quivering, and her breast
heaving.
81 don't remember it word for word, .
he returned quickly; 81 know it was
written on the impulse of the moment.
'But I have it by heart = then, very
slowly, "you said, if your love, in it's
heart and strength was little exacting,
mine was cold and tideless in fact, no
love, only a slow, sluggish affection.
You almost thought [ was right, and
that we could not be happy. I am nat
urally proud" she went on but
woman with less pride than have could
not have acted differently. Only one
course was left me-to be silent.
"Wel, it is all over now, he rejoined;
"we shall never, never meet again.
You won't take my friendship,
then?'
emo, thank you you are very gen
erous, but I do not want this gift. /"
He threw himself YEARLY into a chair
and for some time there was a complete
silence. Hope is SO subtle, SO intangi-
BILE, that we are only aware of it's exist
ence when it has ceased to be. Arthur
Seton looked upon himself as man
quite without hope. 1t seemed to him
that his life could hardly be more gray
and desolate than it was, yet who shall
say what feeling, of which he was not
directly conscious, may have sustained
him through the last three years. Now
everything seemed gone-there was
nothing but death left.
Presently carriage-wheels came down
the road carriage lamps flashed through
the dusk, and grew stationary opposite
the window Mr.. Hunter hustled In and
announced, III tone of triumph, that
the carriage had come for the young
lady, and done the distance wonderfully
quick. Then the door shut, and they
were alone together again.
Very softly and distinctly Seton heard
her say his name, "Arth1r but he did
not move. It seemed to him that he
would keep back all his love, clinch fast
his heart till she were gone, and then
die swiftly of the pain.
" Arthur, am waiting, dear. Won't
you Gomez Are you not going to for
give me?"
Now he rose and CROPPED his way to-
ward her, Ikea blind man. She stretched
out her hands and drew him to her.
Then he bent down. She raised her
face, and the hearts and lips, SO long dis
united, came together III prolonged
passionate kiss. He lnelt down by her,
her head sank upon his shoulder, and
for several minutes they remained thus,
/ lost in loves profound peace and mys-
terry. And the ale-corks continued to
pop, and the wagoners on their way to
London tramped in and out OF the
bar, and warm good-nights were ex-
changed between customer and landlord,
and as Arthur folded Alice's mantle
round her, she said, half shyly, You
are coming back with mo to see mamma,
are you not?"
'May r." he answered, great JOY evi-
dent in face and voice.
So the bedroom which Mrs. Hunter
had been preparing all the afternoon,
and of which she was not little proud,
remained unoccupied; but the payment
was lavish, and the days labor was not
regretted.
Oh! that never-to -be-forgotten ride
to Chiselhurst through the wild, windy
evening. Between it and the last three
years lay all the pains of hell. And the
rain ceased, and strange voices we're
abroad in the wind, singing jubilantly
over love rerisen and redeeming. And
the clouds drifted away, and the pure,
sweet, windy moonlight quivered over
wet fields and IL as, and seemed loves
benediction.
leave you to imagine the arrival
home. Arthur had always been favor
tie with Mrs. Clareield, and in the old
days of quarrels she used always to take
his part. When dinuer had at last been
disposed OF, Mrs. Clarefeld pleaded
household duties and went to her bed
room. There she sat down before the
bright fire and wept profusely, dear
soul, over the happiness of her children.
And down stairs these two we're very
quiet. 70 them love was a solemn
thing, and they were solemn lovers.
And the wonderful priceless moments
went silently and swiftly by.
Presently, however, Alice said, look
ing up in Arthur's face, and pressing
his hand very tightly, g You won't con-
tinue your walk to Hastings this week ?"
And he answered, with bright smile,
"But I have pledged my word and hon
or to do so.'
"And I command you to break it,
i s. 4 l. -. -L-.S- e