Connecticut western news., 1877-07-13

music through the place; the murmur of laughing voices came faintly toward them on the breeze. But Harold lis- tened alone, for grandma Peverill was already far away.
 A few weeks later Miles Bond and Mir. Helper were engaged looking over the private papers, as her executors. That modest portion of her fortune which her sons speculations had left intact she had bequeathed to Agnes. Presently Miles raised his eyes from the paper he had been inspecting. "A ras- eally piece of business" he groaned, between his teeth. Should he quietly light his cigar with the paper, bury its contents in oblivion, and marry Agnes, and go on his way rejoicing? No; perish the thought. A Bond, of the Bonds of Bondholder, who could trace their lineage to the conqueror! A thou sand times no! He made desperate resolve and passed the sheet to Harold. It was merely letter from the late Mrs. Peverill, setting forth certain family matter, which she had deemed it wise they should know, not as execu- tors< but as lovers. ....
 ,YOf, course this will not affect your interest," said Harold, filing the paper away, quite at his ease.
 s'It might not,' sneered Miles, eff I were not Bond, with family credit to sllstain."
 "And yet," said the other, "Shake- speare tells us that
 r 5fzis Love Is not love which alters , 8s4p When it alteration finds" yF'.
 Shakespeare be hangedw quoth the quondam lover. ecf Al. ;4s a@
 The following week, when Mir. Hel- per dropped in to pay his respects to pay his respects to Agnes, he found her watering her beds of amignonettes and pansies. =at. {. as -a -..-..a..
 "Oh,'' she said, presently, and half shyly, tEttthe oldest thing has happened I mast tell somebody! How dear grand mamma would laugh if she were here, and say, it served me right! I received note yesterday, (you could hardly call it billet-dour, though it was from Miles, and what do you think? He says in it-there, turn your eyes away | don't look at me so while tell you-he | begs me to release him from an engage ment which, upon close examination o1 his heart-under the microscope, I sup. pose-he finds himself unable to fulfill l Now, you must know that there never 1 was an engagement at all between us he just leased my soul out of me te marry him, and I promised. Only tt think of it! A Peverill, descendant of one Rupert Peverill, who figured il the Crusades, tilted by Miles Bond! Il must be that grandmamma's jointurt disappointed the poor youth. Motto Never appoint as your executor the mar whom you wish to marry your heir.
 "You don't seem to take the matter much to heart," said Harold. ~
 Because my heart wasn't concerned in it, # ry .s2---4s --
 t.What under heaven were you think ing of, then?'' s:e- 4. s-
 |I was thinking whether or no you you had changed your mind, Sir whether you would ever again dare-'
 II dare do all that doth become lover," asseverated Harold, inclining t. the level of her lips. twill you recon sider the question I asked you yea ago, darling3" -at.ar . .---
 And Agnes reconsidered. .
 Mrs. Helper had been married yea and better, when it occurred to her, il an idle moment, to overhaul grandm Peverill's papers, now that they wer her own possessions, and when sh heard Harold calling her she wen slowly out to meet him, with one o them crushed in her soft hands.
 "What have you there, darling?" h asked. ...a .-.5.
 "And you knew it all the while ' she answered, irrelevantly; 'you kney I was not Peverill, descended fron the Crusader; you knew that I ha been adopted from foreign foundlin! asylum! And yet you loved me! An yet you married me, Agnes Nobody ' and Mrs. Helper began to cry, and al lowed herself to De claSped Tn the arm of stone cutters son, and found com fort in it.
 "'Love is not love, which alters
 | G When it alteration finds.'"
 said Harold. ..s -.. .. ..a.
 "But I may be the daughter ofa cobt Ter, or pauper, or worse,'' she sobbed "You are my wife, and I love you. | r I>o than the daughter of king" said she t smiling through, her tears. =
 MT. Helper had forgotten to burn tn letter which grandma Peverill Ina written to her executors, and so prid had fall. ,f.,t ...,, ro.. ..,,....
 Turkish Of1c1aI I1tles.