Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1877-02-06

drawn up by the fire, that in Summer
stood in the coolest, shadiest room-so
that Alfred, with his face like Guido's
angel and Raphael's cherub, and his
nature and disposition correspondingly
sweet, might suffer as little as possible
from the great, sudden change in his
condition.
But two years had gone by, and, for
all his delicate beauty and softness,
the boy had never once complained of
the great difference, except as it affected
his darling Lenore-fair, lovely LeAore
-equaling at least in his estimation any
Peri that ever peeped in the gates Of
Paradise. She was the light of his life,
whom he looked to and worshiped as
only she deserved.
Very few friends had been sought or
accepted by these two brave, yet shrink
gentleman who let them the house, and
lodged with them with old Miss Jones,
who occupied the second floor and had
her meals in his rooms; good natured,
garrulous, devoted Emily, who was
working housekeeper and chef de cati-
sine, and their latest new confer, Mr..
Mo.eland, the literary gentleman, who
spent so much OF his time at his office
in the city, but who was the light of the
house the moment he crossed its thresh-
old on his return.
When their intimacy had been fully
established, Alfred took him into their
confidence and told Mr.. Moreland all
about their change of fortune, of his
sisters perfect behavior under the cir
cumstances, of her courage and cheeIi-
ness, of the gray-haired old man she
refused to think of for a moment as her
lover, of the unknown. fortunate stran-
ger who had become heir so romantical-
" to all the broad and fertile acres of
aristocratie Darlington, and all the
wealth he and Lenase had always been
taught to consider,astheirs
And Mr.. Moreland had listened and
looked grave, and then caught a sudden
upward glance of Lenore's eyes, as she
sat leaning restfully against the head OF
Aifred's lounge.
think I should pray hourly for some
dire and special judgment Oh that usurp-
| ing fellows head Lenore-he had fall
en- into a way all her friends had of
calling her by her sweet Christian name
l-Lenore, you must hate that fellow
most cordially.
wish l could conscientiously say
don't feel hurt, and-well, Mr.. More
land, little envious, when I think OF
the dear home at Darlington, where in
all probability he is enjoying himself
this minute. But, truly, l do not hate
him. I have never felt any disposition
to either cherish or encourage feelings
of hatred. 1t would not be Christian
like, and display of such sentiments
would exercise very evil influence on
one who is so dear 10 me as my dear AL
fred, nv loving brother.
Mr.. Moreland looked eagerly at her.
'Such ardent passions seem strangers
to your heart, Lenore. Alfred has told
me how you refused your suitor's hand,
and, of course, you could not have
loved him to have done So"
He was thoroughly interested in AL
fred's remarks, and Lenore smoothed
Alfred's bright hair gently, with her
sweet face slightly averted and flushed.
"I did not love him, certainly, or"-
She hesitaled, charmingly confused,
and Moreland's eyes grew more and
more eager.
"ShalI I finish for you? You did not
love him, or yon would not have resign
ed fortune for him?"
He paused inquiringiy, watching the
rising carnation on her cheeks, while
her beautiful, modest eyes were looking
intently at bright figures in the carpet
and not raising them at once.
Not that, Mr.. Moreland. Had cared
the money would have made not the
smallest difference whether I kept OF
lost it.
He walked over to the forest of flow
ers in the rear window then called Lee
more, and every pulse in her body bound
ed under the passion and command oi
his tone as he said:
"Lenore, come here. I want YOU"
| He parted the snowy ruffied window
curtains that draped the window from
the street and let them fall, frail, pure
| barrier between them and all the world
and then he looked at her, all his SOU
in his splendid eyes.
| How could | wait another moment
Lenore? Lenore, darling, how Hove
you! And you will tell me you return
it, as only such a true, grand woman
could return it. Lenore, Lenore, my
love!
1t thrilled her from head to foot witt
such delicious ecstacy-those low, i'm.
passioned words, with his eyes rivetet
on her face, his breath coming quick
irregular, and his handsome face agloN
with earnestness.
Then, always true, always frank, al
ways womaniy, she lifted her eyes and
gave one swift, smiling, blushing glance
that was eloquent with the success O
his suit, and Moreland knew she wa!
his own forever, she whom world o
money could not buy.
i Lenore.
She looked up from her sewing in hi
radiant face.
Yes.
He pulled her muslin FROM her hand
laughingly. g"
How long have we been engaged?
} year or SO, isn't it?
A year! Oh, what makes you so fool
ish, when you know it hasn't been
month.
And you've been happy, dear: Per
fectly happy, in the anticipation OF be
ing poor man s wife?
A great solemn tenderness dawned il
her eyes.
Oh, my darling, you can never know
how entirely happy and content.
, would have nothing different, nothin
better than you, just as you are, my kin
among men.
He lifted her sweet, adoring face t
his own, paler than Lenore had eve
seen it, and radiant with some wonder
, full pleasure.
, Lenore, it almost makes me trembl
r to think how undeserving / am OF sue
, love, but, Heaven my helper, you neve
[ shall repent giving it to me. Lenor'
| r - mob of