The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1876-12-30


paler, indeed, and graver than of old, and
with a firm, light line or two about the
pink-hpped mouth. But still Grace of the
lovely figure, the fair, still girish face, and
the tiny hands dropped in a loose clasp be-
fore her.
Her companion glanced around. els it
all right, Miss Eliot? ~ he asked, smiling,
and answered by her smile.
Well, not quite she demurred. "Tm
afraid, Mr.. Artist, your hand is rather stiff
Don't you think something lighter droop-
ing down the side-something with little
more -
"a little more of Grace That ivy at
your foot-will not that do ."
"lvy?' she repeated, slowly, " did not
see it before. | did not know YOU had
brought any. Mr.. Livingstone How luxu-
RANT this is.''
He had turned again to the adjustment
of the scarlet berries. He replied "There
is not much, you see. Just that bough
which you hold and another. l was riding
by the grange last eveniug-you know what
bower there is over the north windows.
| confess to being guilty of petty larcency,
for thought a garland from your old home
would brighten Christmas tide. That
branch now, please-I have place for it
just here"
He extended his hand for it; but, after
an instant, finding that nothing was offered
to his grasp, and that no reply was made,
he looked around. Grace was standing
there, her blue eyes flashing fixed on va
brow. The ivy was no longer in her care
less hold. She had dropped it suddenly
upon the hearth, and her foot spurned it
aside impatiently. Livingstone sprang from
his place, and was at her side in an instant
"Miss ot-Grace," he cried, "have |
said, have done, any thing to wound you?
Do you not know that for worlds l would
not hurt you? 1t tortures me to see you
thus. Grace, are you angry with me9"
for she had turned from him, had suddenly
thrown herself into the arm chair by the
table. and laid her brow down on it, shv-
ering from head to foot.
Not sound escaped her, however; and,
when he drew near, pouring forth eager,
incoherent words, the burden of which was
still his love, untold before, she did not stir
for a long moment. Then she lifted her
head slowly. There were no tears, nor
traces of them, on the crimson cheeks.
But even the watcher at the window could
see how her hand shook, as, instead of an
swering, she reached forward, and drew a
small desk toward her. She took a key
from her work-box deliberately. and I'M
locked it; and then, more deliberately still,
she lifted letter after letter, till she came to
a worn envelope. She hesitated then; her
color changed, and she half moved to lay
the envelope il its place again. But she
did not. As if summoning her utmost reso-
luton, slowly, painfully, she held it out to
Livingstone.
1t was without address and sealed. He
tore it open hastily. No letter, not scrap
of paper in it; but as he held it up, dry,
dead ivy leaf fell out. He looked at her
inquiringly. A culver passed across her
mouth, and once and again she tried to
speak, but utterance failed. But her eyes
did not shrink from his and presently she
spoke SO clearly that every word might be
heard at the near window.
"Only an ivy-leaf, you see-an ivy-leaf
from that north window of the grange.
p,,t hnf dc
you should have known the story see
written on that withered thing. This night
ten years ago it was worn in girls hair;
placed there lightly by a hand to which she
thought her own as well pledged. Not
that there had been a word spoken on either
side. Both understood without word.
You know the saying" she added bitterly,
lone does not need to prove that the sun
shines. But neither was fettered by
promise, and he showed his sense of free
dom on that very night by pedging him
self to another woman. Since that time,
this one leaf from his wreath has lain
sealed in this desk as a memento."
He had not moved, nor dropped his eyes
from hers. He had only grown very pale,
and his lips were white as he said distinctly:
LAS memento OF his love ~
"No, no; Of his falsehood.''
Grace" and he came step nearer, and
laid the envelope down between them on
the table, I" do you still love this mani"
Her color rose again, but still her lashes
did not fall, and still her face was raised to
his. The watcher without listened breath
lesSly. Had not the whole world of those
two that moment closed around them, they
might have heard the hard, quick gasp, and
the rustic of the thorny boughs in Eliots
frenzied grasp.
"And if do still love this man. she
queried, "then what would you say"
He had drawn nearer still, had grasped
both little trembling hands in his.
81 would say, Grace, his love was less
than mine. Come, let me teach you to for
GET
She rose up then: and. as she stood fac
ing her lover and the window, the man
who had betrayed her love beheld her face
light up as with a sudden glory.
"That Christmas eve," she said, "upon
my knees, l watched, through tears-such
calling, bitter tears-the gray dawn merge
into the day. When the first sunbeams
entered that dark room, rose and laid
that leaf-that bright leaf from my life,
which had thought could never wither-
in my desk, sealed, for said such leaf
should neyermore be turned by me. But
! you have broken the SEAL
"And you can love me ~
"Snce that night have not loved-till
now"
He did not draw her closer to him, nor
bend toward her blushing, dropping face.
Instead, he loosed her left hand as she stood