Litchfield enquirer., 1876-03-23

Y She stood looking mp at him with eager eyes aud flushed checks. She had mo- flyned. meantime. to slave to bring her shawl, and stood . ith the costly Indian fabric hanging across her arm and trail ing upon the oaken floor. .
 [ MT, Wentworth looked downat her with gentle eyes, i'll which lurked, ill spite of himself, something of amusement strug- gling with gratlfied vanity, and. with a smile that was infinitely kind and re-assur- ing, only said, Don't mind them. Fanny. :"
 He took the shawl, and wrapping it around her shoulders, offered his arm. and they went ont of doors. Ladies and gentlemen in, groups N ere promenading up and down the avenues, and sitting On rustic benches under the trees. The night was intensely sultry-more like July than Maygu4 Iga8 G 5.F My head aches" said Frances, sand I'm tired of these people. Every body is tiresome and disagreeable tonight except you.a Ton never are. Whats the reason, John P. z-..-f -... ..I m too fond of pleasing, suspect, :" he replied, with quiet amusement
 sasss Are you fond of pleasing people you .Rates
 "I don't think I hatc any body, Fanny. It Is too great waste of time and temp er?n a
 "What do you do. then, when you find people SO disagreeable and exasperating that you'd like to snap their heads off" 's'1 m sorry for them, with all my heart, because know that they are much more uncomfortable than they can make me. There isn't much substance, after all, Fanny, in any of the unkind things peo- pie can say to us and of us If we're on- ly honest and do what we believe to be right, we don't have much real trouble in the long. run."
 They were moving away from the lawn in the direction of the garden, as he utter ed these last words they entered it. The air was laden with the fragrance of flacs, n few early roses and other old d-fashioned flowers which one sees now occasionally, and which recall traditions of that by gone time as powerfully as an old portrait or square necked brocade dress. They strayed down the path to the summer house which overlooked the water.
 II don't think it is best to go in; do you, Fanny?"
 ''Yes; come along, please,' replied AOhSCcS II" PCAouNC4y anu SOoAAhSly.
 So they went in together and conversed on many subjects. They spoke of the happy days they had spent together, of of his return in few years, and how glad they should be to see each other. By de- grees Frances recovered her equanimity.
 ''This is better than the crowd. isn't it, John?" she said, presently. Its very Tahn E1o no0v1n and dresses and dancing and music and games put together is as pleasant as hearing you talk and being ont here in the dark with you ill the garden"
 MT. Wentworth, laughing outright how you make such speeches when you're a few years older"
 Here they were interrupted by footsteps over over gravel.
 ''It is Cousin Theodore" said Frances, peering out. Theodore, suppose you're looking for me. Next time go to party, Pll go labeled"
 "Im sorry to interrupt you," answered Theodore, meekly; "but Miss Elizabeth said you left the house an hour ago, and doACO luC bO AOOA you uRs do 0uO WdS dlId1O you would take coll." '
 You go back and tell Miss Elizabeth. that my cousin John is taking very good care of me.
 John Wentworth sailed for England Many an eye vas wet at tle parting; for be had not few wal m friends, and voy- age to Europe was hazardous undertak- lngin those days. Perhaps among all the crowd of friends and acquuintances as- sembled on the wharf to bid him god speed, none bore heavier heart than his little cousin Frances. She fancied she should not see another happy days until his return. She had yet to learn that time mercifully lessens all griefs. If it were not so, how many of us would live to grow old? The accumulation of dolorous bur dens would cause the most of us to sink down exhausted before middle age. The fact that in little time we accustom our selves to think resignedly of the death and absence of friends is not fact to re- gret or be shamed of, but thankful for. Frances Wentworth, aftefa few years, left school and became the queen in the circle in which she moved. As time pass- ed, and she ripened into beauti; ;ul wo- she had many offers of marri- age. Finally, to every ones surprise, she decided in favor of her cousin Theo- do Atkinson. That she had been as much in love with her cousin John as she could ever be with any one she did not once doubt; but lie, peThaps, had forget her. Be had been several years in Eng land, and there was no prospect of his re- turn. Her family were anxious for the match, Theodore was as much attached to her as was possible to a person of his na- ture, and in a moment of weakness, act lHg against her true. pure instincts of right and wrong, Frances gave her con- sent She led the same kind of life with him, l suppose, that other women lead with husbands to whom they are indiffer- ent, and season succeeded season.
 In the year 1766 Governor Benning Wentworth, who had been Tn office tsen- ty-five years, was removed in favor Of his nephew, John. The Province had long groaned under his iron rule, and the Stamp Act caused an open revolt. John Wentworth, the last of the royal govern. ors of New Hampshire, received hls com mission as e Governor of the Province and Surveyor of the Kings Woods. on the 11th of August, l766.
 ",
 Portsmouth was on the qua vave, and af- ter several hours of impatient waiting, was rewarded by the appearance of bril- liant cavalcade which rode at a stately pace up the principal street. The jubilant po- pulace. in holiday attire, thronged the side walks, and occupied every available window and doorway The crims on cross of St George futtel ed overhead. repeated from roof to roof. Cannon thundered, bells rung, music played. hearty viuas rolled resonant up the long street, and