Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1876-04-26

"You would hear nothing, and you
refused to see me. In vain I called,
wrote and sent messages. You were
decided. You left Europe. You left
me that cruel note. I tried in vain to
follow you, to write you, Or to explain,
All was useless. In desperation I mar
ried Marie; my friend had died and left
the poor girl half heartbroken. For ten
long years have wandered about, now
static ned in one place, now in another,
till last month, when Marie died. I met
your uncle by accident in New York,
whittier I had come, resolved to make
still another effort to find you. He gave
me your address, and SO soon as I was
able, after an attack of illness, [ wrote
you, and here, at last, am with you,
my Jeanette"
lieved, it is impossible to say. One
thing, however, was certain; she had
tenderly loved him in her younger days,
and long separation, with nothing in the
meantime to occupy or distract her mind,
had hallowed and strengthened this love
till it had become part of herself. She
knew his narrow, small character; she
knew how plausible and ruthless he
was; but there was certain romance
and sentiment about her old affection for
him which was powerful still.
There was as much of sadness as Of
sweetness in her smile as she turned to
him and said: edward I do not
know if you still love me; am much
older and changed since we parted; but
this l know, that my old love is still
strong, and that nothing has ever altered
it." Gu...
This she said musingly, more as if
speaking to herself than toany one else.
6" All Jeanette" he rejoined, syou
may think ill of me; you cannot think
more of me than l think myself. But
with your love to guide ne for the fu-
ture, [ nave no fears. Tell me, dearest,
shall it be, chen, at last? Can you so
far forgive me as to mary me ?"
cit may be weakness" said jean
nette, with melancholy in her tone.
"My life, for years pas, has not been a
happy one; it's one happiness has been
dreaming of my younger days. God
, forgive me if do wong! You will
love me at least, Edward, and In a
soberer friendship, mGe suited to our
years, we shall be happy"
Her eyes glistened in the red fire.
: light, and were moist.
) He seemed to misunderstood her.
, 81 spoke of marriage, Jeanette, and
you speak of friendship"
5 81 mean the SAM" she replied.
J "The word seemed to- full of happi-
I ness for me to utter
e That was their bethr,thal.
S A few days later the leighbors were
. somewhat surprised to hear that Miss
3 Jane had been married quietly in the
: morning to Lieutnan Edward
!; Acton.
. For while Miss JAMES lie seemed
7 to glide or as smoothly as bfore, and
: one heard or saw but little of her
4 Sometimes, early in the morning or
5 late in the evening, she vas sen walk
8 ing with tall and handsome gentle
man, whom all knew to be the ieuten-
ant, and looking happy and ,retty.
e Soon, however, they were rarely seen
/ together, then not at all, and tle in
d mates of the low stone housewere as
Q mysterious as before Miss Jams mar
q riage. No one knew the sorrowhut up
d there. The lieutenant went off or days
J together and returned IS SUDDENLY as
he left, and generally in the nigt. His
e wife, with the blind devotion OTTOMAN,
# was always ready to pity and orgive.
She soon found that her dren was
b over, her hopes delusion; but ne still
d chung to the memory. He squadered
a and wasted her fortune, and tre,ed her
q with the contempt and insolenca mean
q and selfish nature feels for tho who
y sacrifice all to them.
Years passed on, and told tlir sad
o story of a breaking heart on theace of
IS Miss Jane. She still chung to m with
y devotion. So. -
e One night there was a nois late,
y which reused some of the neigaDrs, as
y carriage drove up to Mrs. rtons'
70 door. Two days after, early, the was
:t quiet funeral there.
Is Mrs. Acton was widow.
She lived on yet many year but
o much changed. Now she was comicu-
sr GUS for doing good and relievir the
( necessities of those around her. She
could be seen almost daily, her ha per-
L fectly white, dressed in gray, and ping,
< with basket on her arm, to the Dorer
le portions OF the town.
Elizabeth still lived with hel bu
grown into pretty young woma still
N with an inordinate love of dress She
ID regarded men with great aversio and
a was model of fidelity and devon to
her mistress, whom she regarded any
a moment as likely to be carried O like
10 Elijah or Enoch, and only wolered,
" as, of course, she must do at somhing,
Ell that the aerial journey shouloe de-
layed. Her eyes had never 10 their
,e look of amazement, but she hanst all
her taste for sitting at the kitche win
VI dow, except about the time whe Miss
as Jane, as she always called her. mstess,
I was wont to return. She met he. i the
e. door then, with smile. You nut be
tired, MISS" she would say. go"
IS Miss Jane would answer; ''not ted,
Elizabeth-one cannot be tired 7hen
1, one is occupied in doing good, nd for
s. getful of oneself. It is fruitless dHel-
y ing on the past that wearies, or tepur-
s suit of something which God dies not
.e intend us to have. ~
# Nails Tut up at Last.