Litchfield enquirer., 1876-06-08

and moods. Sometimes wondered if it were really my duty to tie myself down for life to such being as Ben. He would never be any thing else than q rough, free hearted sailor, N hile Mir. Arnold's simplest l expressed thought seemed to lift me up and transport me to new world. Surely 1t Nias my duty to be with him as much as. I possible. since all the rest of my life, if 1 Ben had his way, was doomed to such commonplace level. So saw very little of him while his vessel was being made ready. and Mr. Arnold and I spent our 1 days in wandering about shore or explor- ing the rocks, straying far enough away from home to give us q perfect and com. plete oneness in our isolation. We stood together in the sunlight and the moon | light under the solemn cliffs whose rug ged front had braved the drifting waves 1 for years We dal,ied idly with the days, both of us forgetting the memorable march of Time, and feeling as if all the world were an Eden and we alone in it. l And Ben's vessel was ready to sail In- deed. he would leave, when the tide serv- ed, the very next day, he said one'eyening, as he dropped in for smoke with father and place at the table, as usual Mir. Arnold had gone away for one day to make some preparations about a speedy departure too: but still Ben had not re- | faxed the grave, injured air that of late he had assumed toward me. I also had very little to say to him; and before the soft summer twilight had faded quite away, our guest returned He brought dainty volumes in blue and gold of Jean lngelow and Miss Procter, and begged my accept ance them with that ready and deferential grace that was his greatest charm. And oil tho oil lo i nothing to occupy him but the filing of his pipe, or watching us as we bent over the books, talking of poetry and things that Ben could never understand-at last rising and proposing smoke outside with | father, and so leaving us alone. I had dropped my head upon my hand, dream l fly looking beyond the open page, and seeing something else besides the tender l words there written, when felt his hand | upon my arm.
 'I wish you read German" he said, "so 1 could have brought you Goethe to-day. l should so love to have you study and understand him. I wonder you didn't take it up when you broke loose from all these surroundings and went away to school"
 Father thought I'd better learn En- | glish sudden blush suffusing my. face as remembered how little he and Ben cared for my scant knowledge of even that one language.
 "You must understand elective affinity by intuition, then,'' he said. softly, ''for some subtitle, magnetic influence has drawn me to you ever since that night I woke to find yon at my bedside ;'' and then. as looked up, triumphant glow flushed his face that I had never seen there before. .'Darling!' he whispered, ''you love me little, don't you?" his eyes still searching mine. I could not veil them and hide their tenderness, so look ed steadily down, uttering not word. He took my face in his hands. and held it up to him. q was sure," he cried, exult- ingly.
 In the early dawn Ben came to me to say good-by. He knew where to find me. and that would be alone in the stiffness of the breaking morning. And he drew me to him, all pride and coldness gone now that the supreme moment of parting had come.
 II may have been hard on you, Jetty, of late, he said, "but 1t was like taking my life to see you a-trifiing with that stranger. And now I'm going away, and we've had nothing but cold looks betwixt us too long. Say you forgive me, Jetty, and love me just as we'll as ever I can't part from you in anger, dear. Only tell me you love me as you did before Mr. Ar mold came"
 II can't tell you that Ben, I stammer- ed ''You've waited too long to speak, and now-now it's too late"
 He took away his hand, turning his face from me with groan. "Jetty!.Jet etty! you say this to punish me. Think again. think we'll. It's hard to turn one off that's been allowing you more than twenty years for stranger who's only known you few weeks. Twenty years It's long time, my lass-think of 1t minute "
 did think of it. For one moment the honest face lifted to mine brought before me all that l was losing; the next the re- membrance of the night before, the whis- pered words, "Darl1ng. you love me little" the one swift glance that was as a seal to our love, obliterated all the past, and cried out, ''Oh, Beni don't talk to me so-don't! like you-why shouldn't like you?-you've been so good to me all my life; but I wish-I wish I might never see you again"
 ''If you'd said anything but that, J Jetty," he whispered in dazed, broken kind of way. staring at me incredulously. God knows what weight of agony held him in that dead, helpless pause before he spoke again. II haven't one word to upbraid you with, dear. When two people have been to each other what we have, it's a goOd-by forever or none at all. You don't know what this parting is to me-you' re such a child-how should you?' And then he pushed past me, and rushed out of the house.
 For minute or two after he was gone stood leaning against the windows. with a frightened, pitying feeling in my heart, conscious that even Ben's dull nature had been tried and wounded sorely. Then I went up to my room and made some un- reasonable excuse about headache, so I might avoid fathers or Mr. Arnold ques- tions. After timeI heard them both go out. Then rose from my bed, dressed myself, and went up to the tower, turning the glass toward the Betsey .JQ4e, watch- ing the little boat go to and from the shore for the last time. l wanted to see her of; so shut up the glass, tied on my bonnet. and went down to the beach with desperate haste, though with no especial aim. was full of wrath and mortifca- tion. wanted to get away and think, Ben had been very cruel to leave me in anger, yet conscience said all the time. You only are to blame," as I stared moodily seaward toward the vessel with spread sails that was slowly drifting away. did not observe any one near me- The soft sand gave no echo of footsteps, and 1t was not until shadow fell across my path that I turned and found myself face | to face with Mir. Arnold. ''Why have you staid away from me so 1 long?" he said, responsibility. s'I have been looking everywhere for you. Didn't your heart tell you that wanted you ? gracefully drawing my arm within his. | ''Come up on the rocks with me, won't you? We have so little time to ourselves, remember T~<aH But there are days and days comiDg,n I argued, with light laugh. instantly forgetting Ben, and, like child, wholly [ absorbed in present happiness. We went up to the rocks above. and sat down side by side on tue grassy bank. It