The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1876-06-03

| III WV eyes.
"TruthIully, it was not L.
) "Thank you-oh, thank your'
Why did | furtively kiss the ring? =
Why, if she had said Yes would |, in
turn, have thrown it passionately away
} All. the reader guesses.
1t was perhaps a fortnight after that
that ] sat alone at my window watching
the sun set beyond the hills, white with
snow, but seeing it as one sees in dream.
All my thoughts were wandering toward a
happy hour last evening, when DR.. Rich
ardson had asked me to be his wife.
From thence the days fled by like
dream. They were so happy, but so short
that was all had to complain of; and
they too rapidly brought near day that l
longed for and yet dreaded. And-it is a
sad confession-for the first time in my life
| looked at myself often in the mirror. 1t
seemed as if had suddenly grown almost
pretty. There was a pink color in my
cheeks; my pale eyes had darkened and
frightened. One day-think how foolish!
i really leaned over and kissed my own
lips; it seemed so delightful to be little
handsome that felt grateful to the mirror.
"Do not you wish | were beautifully"
said, one afternoon, to DR.. Richardson, with
a wistful longing that he should tell me he
thought me so. We were standing near
the open door Of the parlor, just as he was
taking leave.
Indeed do not, " he answered, frankly.
81 love you just as you are.''
That was pleasant, but not what wished
to hear.
"But do not you wish l were as hand
some as-as Miss Huntingdon, for in
stance?' persisted. "Think how bright
and laughing her brown eyes are! And
what gypsy color rises in her cheeks
when she is excited. She looks aflame
sometimes
"She does indeed said DR.. Richardson,
smiling; "but am not a salamander.
have no wish that you should resemble her.
Miss Huntingdon is too
"Too excellent for this worldr' cried
that lady's laughing voice outside. She
had just entered the hall, and stopped
moment at the paIlor door. "Good after
noon, DR.. Richardson. Is the patient up
stairs better to-day? l am on my way to
see her. shall not take you with me,
Agnes, in order to earn DR.. Richardson's
good opinion over again-for once he had
good opinion of me-" She looked up at
him sdewise and laughed. She was won
derfully pretty this afternoon-all sparkle
and glow.
There was an iustant's. but only an in
staut's, odd constraint in DR.. Richardson's
manner; then he said, quite gravely, "You
have not forfeited my good opinion, Miss
Huntingdon
"The truth is, DR.. Richardson" said
Miss Huntingdon, her face all lighted with
saucy, inward laughter-"the truth is, you
owe me a debt of gratitude deeper than
you ever can repay. Tell me now frankly,
if it were not for me, would you be at this
moment the happy man you are?"
Frankly, would not.''
DIR. Richardson was very serious. Even
Miss Huntingdon seemed to veil some feel
ing under her gay manner. Twas troubled.
"Why do you two talk in riddles ?" 1
asked. "Do not you both know that l
have no talent for guessing?'
Sat least you shall not cultivate it just
now, DEAR" said Miss Huntingdon. cdr.
Richardson will tell you when / am gone
l must go to your aunt. 1t does her good
to scold me-" She turned away and moved
step or two, and then looked back with
changed face. "Agnes," she said, wist.
fully, "would you mind kissing me?'
"Mind kissing You? What question!
But you are not going away Immediately"
"Oh, don't know. Perhaps had bet
ter bid you good-by now" She kissed me
twice. "Good by!' she said. Absolutely
the spark in her eyes was quenched in dew!
"Agnes," she said, with an odd sort Of
half-laughing seriousness, "if you should
ever come to think that Ananias was a
moral character in comparison with myself,
it would be impossible for you to love me
any more, would it noto But let me assure
you, my dear, that some stories are told
with the best possible Intentions
Then she left us.
"What can she mean, dear??" | asked,
turning in wonder to DR.. Richardson.
| He led me to the chair l had quilted,
and placing me there again, stood before
me.
"Agnes, she means me to confess to you
something that you need never have known.
And yet, perhaps, it is better that you
should. She means that once loved her."
He went on talking for few minutes,
but do not know what he said. My hands
were cold, and objects before my eyes were
blurred. She had deceived me. 1t was to
her and to him had listened that evening
so long ago. He had loved her. l, who
heard him declare it, knew the depth of
sincerity in the voice that told her so. Had
he sought my love only as solace for the
wound that she had inflicted? Friend and
lover-were both to fail me?
"Have you nothing to say, Agnes? Why
do not you answer me"
"Wait for me one moment" l replied,
hearing my voice, but hardly recognizing
it. 81 will answer you when return"
left him abruptly, going slowly up stairs,
my heart feeling broken. l got the ring,
and came down again, not trembling at all,
quite quiet, with that dreadful calm which
accepts despair. In the blind jealousy of
the moment it seemed impossible that he
could really love me, having onced loved
her.
cit is usual, l believe l said, with
some sort of smile, "to break an engage
ment by returning ring. Would You like
that our should be broken so? This is
your ring, is it not?''
What do you mean, Agnes? Where
did you get this ring?" cried DR.. Richard
son, in great surprise.
81 was in the alcove there the night that
Miss Huntingdon threw it away. l found
it in the garden next morning. / heard all
that you both said. But she has deceived
me. She said, when l asked her, that this
ring was never hers. And you have de-
ceived me: you told me that you loved
me-"
In another moment the sob in my voice
would have given place to miserable child
ish tears. But DIR. Richardson folded me
in his arms and kissed me, laughing. That