The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-05-26

/ yours, WhS Irduk Will yous Olu you
how wild and irregular my Life had been,
and how full Of faults / was. You re-
claimed me-you transformed my days
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 silsnced
her with gesture and went on "and
now when we meet, after three years,
you ask me if am happya Ii loved
you once, shall love you forever. Do
look happy2"
81 think there were faults on both
sides, !" she said quietly.
eyes, perhaps there were," he replied,
"but was reading your last letter over
only to-day. Oh | how terribly bitter it
was II"
"And have you forgotten your answer
to that letter." she said, almost passion
ately, her voice quivering. land her breast
heaving.
/ don't remember it word for word"
he returned quickly; CT know it was
written on the impulse of the moment. :"
but have it by heart ;" then, very
slowly, "you said, if your love, in its
| ",
mine was cold and tideless in fact, no
love, only slow, sluggish affection.
You almost thought 1 was right, and
that we could not be happy. am nat
urally proud" she went on "but a
woman with less pride than 1 have could
not have acted differently. Only one
course was left me-to be silent"
"Well, it is all over now, he rejoined;
"we shall never, never meet again."
You won't take my friendship,
then2"
"No, thank you you are very gen.
erous, but do not want this gift"
He threw himself YEARLY into chair
and for some time there was complete
silence. Hope is so subtle, so intangi-
BILE, that we are only aware of its 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 F; carriage lamps flashed through
the dusk, and grew stationary opposite
|, the window. Mr.. Hunter hustled in and
announced, in 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, Arthur ;" but he did
not move. 1t seemed to him that he
would keep back all his love, clinch fast
his heart till she We're gone, and then
die swiftly of the pain.
Arthur, / am waiting, dear. Won't
you Gomez Are you not going to for
give mel"
Now he rose and CROPPED his way to-
ward her, likes blind man. She stretched
ont her hands and drew him to her.
Then he bent down. She raised hel
face, and the hearts and lips, so long dis
united, came together III a prolonged
, passionate kiss. He bnelt 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 tc
pop, and the wagoners on their way to
London tramped in and out of the
bar, and warm gOodnights 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 me to see mamma
I are you not9"
"May q" 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 a little proud
remained unoccupied but the payment
was lavish, and the days labor was no
regretted.
Oh that never-to -be-forgotten ride
to Chiselhurst through the wild, windy
evening. Between IL and the last three
years lay all the pains of hell. And the
rain ceased, and strange voices were
abroad in the wind, singing jubilantly
over love rerisen and redeeming. AnC
the clouds drifted away, and the pure
sweet, windy moonlight quivered ovel
wet fields and tr es, and seemed loves
benediction.
leave you to imagine the arrival
home. Arthur had always been favor
lite with Mrs. Clarefeld, and in the ole
days of quarrels she used always to take
his part. When dinner had at last beer
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 were very
quiet. To them love was 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, You won't con-
tinue your walk to Hastings this week r.
And he answered, with bright smile,
"But have pledged my word and hon
or to do so.
"And command you to break it"
Yes, and he did break it; but none of
his friends brought it as an accusation
against him that for once in his life he
had broken his word of honor l-Neu
Quarterly Magazine.