The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1877-07-26
ticulated slowly, s'Then who wrote those
letters, Philip"

letters, Philip"
81 did, he answered sadly.
She started away from him as if he
had been serpent. She walked up and
down like Gagged animal At last her
scorn burst forth: "You, Philip Aubrey!
yo~! You have dared to laugh me to
scorn, have you? You have dared to
presume that because | am what the
world calls an 'old maid,' l am a fit
mark for the arrows of the would-be
wits? Philip Aubrey, all | have to wish
is, that your actions may recoil upon
yourself" She would have said more,
but her feelings overcame her entirely,
and sitting down she covered her face
with her hand, the tears trickGng through
her fingers.
"Oh, Bessie! Bessie! they have. Bit
terly have repented of my ruse. But
know if you will hear me you will not
Judge me harshly.''
She drew herself up, and throwing all
possible scorn into her face, said, s'Go!
and if there remain in your body one
vestige of feeling belonging to gentle
man, never let me look upon your face
again"
Like stricken cur he went from her
presence. He knew her too well; he
knew that once reused as she now was,
years could not efface her impression.
He knew she would listen to no apology,
no word of any kind; so the only thing
left for him to do, as she had expressed
it, was to "leave her presence"
AS soon as he was fairly gone Bessie
rose, went into the house, locked herself
in her own room and struggled with her.
self. She did not even pretend to her.
self that her trouble was not hard to
bear. What did life hold for her now?
She had not even the cousin ON whom
her affections had so long been centered
as her one living relation.
"Oh, if he had only died! if he had
only died before he deceived me this
way!" she moaned, I" think | should
have borne it more easily. 1t can not
be called the thoughtless trick of boy ;
he is too old, and has carried it ON too
long and planned it all too systematical-
ly for that''
Three hours after she came from her
vigil pale and silent, but conqueror
A little card stuck in the drawing-room
mirror told her that Philip had started
for New York on his way to his Western
home again.
81 declare, Ophelie, Bessie Linton's
awful queer about Philip Aubrey. Last
night says to her, says l, Bessie hear
Philip Aubrey's home-is hep First she
turned mighty red, and then as white as
a sheet, and she seemed kind a-chokin'
like; but in moment she says, $50 he
was, Mrs Dartle, but he found some
pressing business that took him back a
great deal sooner than he expected.
sLa!' says 1, what pity! You amt
seen him for SO long, and you was so
attached to him!' And she says, just as
cold as an ice-pitcher, Il shall miss him
very much. Have you seen my new
heliotrope, Mrs. Dartlep' So l couldn't
say any thing more, but declare to man
I'd give apenny to know what's the mat
ter-such friends as they used to be, too
You may depend upon it the faults on
his side Mebbe he's done something
dreadful"
So things got whispered around, not
very much to the credit of Mr.. Aubrey,
but after Mrs. Dartle's rebuff no one
dared question Miss Linton, knowing
her so well.
Day succeeded day, and no one knew
the bitterness that filled Miss Linton's
heart so full that it seemed as if it must
burst. Then came letter from Philip
"Shall l open it? No, l will send il
back. That he should dare to write
again!'' One mail followed another
and still the letter was unsent, was un
opened. At last, after a fortnight haC
passed, her good sense got the better O.
her ill-feeling, and she said to herself
81 will at least see what he can say fol
himself in excuse. / need not answer
it." So she opened it, and read as fol
lows:
BRooKsIDE, October 8, 1872
My MUCH-ABUsED COUSIN: | dar
not even hope that you will not return
this unopened. But if you do open it
{ hope you may read what 1 have to sa,
without too bitter feelings. Where shal
, 1 commence to tell you my story?
You know what you said in regar'
| to "making up'' news, and one day a
/ I was riding my horse did land me a
, my own fence in the way / described
For weeks I lay on bed of the mos
excruciating torture. Then began t
/ recover, and although I was confined t
, a sofa my faculties were on the alert
/ and was pretty nearly distracted fo
something to do to amuse myself with
Finally, brilliant idea struck me, an
: you were the victim of its execution
3 Believe me, believe me, Bessie, dear,
; only meant it for the harmless amusf
e ment of week or two, but became S
interested in your letters to my imagins
g ry friend that l could not bear to Civ
v them up. had, Bessie, as told yol
$ learned to love you from your letter.