The Portland daily press., 1877-12-29

even 10 look at VIII; tne slgnt OF MN may
havesbeen reproach to her folly; his hearty
ways offended her-so much higher breeding
there seemed to be in the iDsnuatipg air of
the Italian: and then his affection Irritated
her, for she was on the point of grand po-
etic passion for an unhappy exile whose con-
ISOLATION she was to be. And thus the man
who belonged already to her prosaic every
day life, and would have bound her down to
1.-THE life she had always known, without a
charm OF Imagination, of the unknown, or the
ideal in it, and toward whom she felt kind
ness that might possibly grow kinder, and
make her yield, one day, to his persistence, if
he were still here to continue-that man was
becoming intolerable and she wished him out
of her way. And out of her waNshe became
determined he should go.
She couldn't stroll with Mr.. Valerino down
a lonely lane, talking nonsense far too high
for the youths comprehension, but there was
Will just stepping over fence, or lying under
tree, or very possibly laughing at her--if he
was not angry. What right had he to be an
CRY? She had never given him any! She
couldn't go into the church on a weekday.
aud take her seat in a pew alone, to hear Mr.
Valerino practicing in the organ-loft, and
making roof and rafters ring and vibrate with
delicious melody, but there was Will before
her in the porch. 81 like music too," said
Will. She couldn't pass an evening with a
friend, where Mr.. Valerino was one Of the
company, but as soon as the time for parting
came, the bell rang, and there was VIII to
act as escort and spare Mr.. Valerino the
trouble. Once on such an occasion she gave
her arm to the exile and suffered Will to stalk
on in silence beside them, while she talked a
broken lingo of Italian phrases with the
young master, which, for the time being, she
felt put Will Maunder entirely outside the
Ia Of osrysli o4t Ia II
in this wayp' cried Betty to herself, for her
sisters weresnot Of fit age to receive the conf
dence. SITS as bad as having spy at ones
feet. I can't endure ii another day and |
shall tell him so.' And, unfortunately, just
as she was irately brooding over these wrongs,
her father sent for her that he might .ascer-
tain her feelings in regard to proposition he
was inclined to make Villa proposition to
take him into his business, allowing him an
interest now for his work and oversight, and
finally retiring in his favor Owing to her
mothers i'll health. her father had fallen into
the habit of consulting Betty rather than dis
turb the invalid, sufficiently occupied with
her ailments,
"Oh, father, father! You don't mean that
you ever thought of doing such silly thingp
cried Betty, in free disgust. "And when he
posters me SO! never should have another
days peace in my life. You might just as
well put me in prison with spy and master
over me. Oh no, indeed! Give him any
thing, but send him away. Start him in bus
mess in Australia, buy him farm in the
West, but don't, father, pray don't keep him
here"
And Betty's voice settled it. Mr.. Will
marth told his wife's young step-cousin that
he had changed his mind, and had no place
for him in his business, but knew of an OPEN
ing, and would establish him in it, in west
ern city. SIS it Betty's wish?" said Will.
And he refused the proff4r; and, one even
ing, catching Betty's hand, as he bid her good
By, and lifting it to his lips with kiss that
burned in upon it, he left the place, and bur-
led himself, unknown, among the southern
mountains with some focks of sheep.
One might suppose Betty would have been
as bird. Perhaps she missed the pleasure
of having Will behold her conquests, perhaps
she missed the adoring slave; perhaps she
missed the constant, tender service. A
month afterward, when Mr.. Valerino drew
his lessons to a close, and betook himself to
other fields-vexing and mortifying her it may
be, but not grieving her particle-she GER
tainly missed the old friendship and sympa-
thy, the kindness in which she could confide,
and with which she could advise; and little
Betty Wilmarth's black lashes were wet with
l.
suZely she never dreamed she should be she'd
ding because Will Maunder was away. She
had reason, presently, to miss that kindness
to some purpose. Her father was in that
same year thrown from his wagon: and he
lay but partly conscious for weeks afterward,
and for months he never lef5 his room nor
quite recovered his intelligence. In those
weeks and months unfaithful clerks and
book-keepers enriched themselves and i'm
poverished Mr. Wilmarth; and when he fin
ally recovered, it was to the wreck of what
had once bid fair to become great fortune.
elf Will Maunder had been with me,'' said
Mr.. Wilmarth, strangers and hounds would
have had no chance to fleece me-"
1t was true. Betty heard it with shiver.
She had thought as much many a time, yet
had put the thought away; but now, her
father declaring it SO seemed to make the fact
sure r Ard why was Will not with her fath-
ty driven him away. Then they owed all
their misfortunes to her headstrong folly! If
Will Maunder patient, forgiying, hon
est Will Maunder-ha0 been in her fathers
business, this disaster would never have over
taken it; her father would not be beginning
life over again in his old age; her mother need
not have relinquished her nurse; her sister
wonld not be dependent on distant relative
for the charity of their receipted school bills !;
oAO uCloCll WOuiA dOU UO CidtupCQ duQ
turning old clothes, warming old food, doing
the work that servants in plenty had always
done for her before; listening still to these
tiresome lovers, that did not forsake her
beauty because poverty had Joined their
throng.
If crying would have brought him back,
Will Maunder could have sailed to Betty on a
flood of tears; but tears being useless, Betty
scorned to shed them. She had no idea
where he was except for the vague rumor
that spoke of him as sheep-raising somewhere
in the Carolinas. II she had, having sent
him off in her prosperity, she could not call
him back in her calamity. So she braced
herself to bear her trials as she might, and to
bear them, as she sometimes said to herself,
| in a way Will would have approved; and she
laughed bitterly at herself to think of the sem
timental idiot she had been, and of the inno-
cent young Italian on whom she had poured
out the burden of her vain fancies; and her
clear, dark cheeks redeemed redder than their
wont at thought of the light in which the
cear-headed Will must have held her infatua-
tion.
Betty's cheeks, though, had never lost
their earn alton; she was no older than be-
| fore, so far as her beauty was concerned
only into the radiant. face there had stolen a
new expression, perhaps called out by the
sick father and dsconsolate mother, perhaps
by the longing for a once neglected presence,
the hope, growing more patient that it
might yet return-the sense, growing daily
more humble, that nothing had befallen her
but what she sadly deserved.
And then the long war broke out, and in
all its course no word of Will. She thought
he might be in it. She was sure his blood
must be stirred. She looked for his name in
the bulletins, in the promoted, in the dead
and missing, in the discharged, in the forlorn
hopes; she longed to do something for him,
now that it was impossible-to encourage
him, to help him, if she could only once find
his name. She never did. And when at
last peace was declared, there came through
the obscure channels in which all such news
runs, not to be verified, and yet too authentic
for disbelief, the report that he had been a
conscript of the confederates, had fallen in
his first battle, and had died in hospital.
And her act had killed himi Betty Will
marth sat down, that day, in despair. For
what had she been born, when, out of her
insigni6cance, she had wrought such evil as
this? A murderess-that was what she was
The murderess, too, of the best friend a
woman ever had by a whlm, mere whim,
she had brought disaster and ruin on her
| family-she had brought strong man down
10 his grave, By Whim2 No oh no! Bv