The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1878-12-28

other mail for several days. l was
troubled when | wrote it, and stamped
it on my uncle's desk while the messen-
ger was waiting to take it to the office.
| found, too late, that | had mis-
stamped it. | have been utterly
wretched for the past few days on ac-
count of that mistake. | knew too well
what the fate of my letter would be.
Judge then how relieved felt when my
uncle brought me this''-taking from
the mantelpiece the letter that had
come that morning. If it escaped
your keen observation, how did my let
ter pass the eyes of the New York Off
cials undetected? This is my ques-
ton
CHER eyes searched my face.
l took her hand in my own"
Annie" said |, 81 believe l could
make no one understand what it cost
my jealous heart to rectify the mistake,
but | did it, | knew it must be in an
swer to that letter that you spoke of a
few nights ago. 1t ought to prove to
you how unseltishly l love you, my dar-
ling, when | re-stamped it and sent it
on its way to him. | never thought
you would find it out. did it to spare
you moments uneasiness. If the man
who loves you cares for you as much as
l do, he will make your life a happy
one"
" How can repay your generosity?"
she said, in voice tremulous with
feeling. "You could not have acted
better if you had had peep at the con-
tents of that letter. But your reward
may be claimed when you read this"
She handed me the letter and glided
out of the room. | took it over to the
shaded lamp and read the following:
"DEAR ANNIE:-When beside your
fathers dying bed we entered into an
engagement of marriage, felt as he
did, that the interest of the firm of
which he and | were partners would be
best sustained by our union.
" wrote to you, notifying you of my
readiness to fulfill my part Of the agree
ment, and requesting you to be ready
to return with me on Saturday as my
wife. You say to me that | must not
come. There is but one explanation to
this refusal, and that is that you have
seen someone who pleases you better
than your humble servant. 1t is but
natural, child; | cannot blame you.
The young should mate with the young,
and | am too much your senior to eX-
pect to awake in your youthful heart
feelings that have long been lifeleSs in
my own. | release you from a promise
that [ am now aware was made by you
under the pressure of the sad circum-
stances. But this fact can never affect
the fatherly regard | have entertained
for the only child of my dear old
friend"
l read no further. Here was my re-
ward. And how nearly had lost it by
the desire of gratifying an ungenerous
impulse! Annie has since assured me
that had Joseph Norris arrived on the
day designate |, so great was her awe
of her fathers old partner, that she
never would have had the courage to
contend against her destiny. Indeed,
the circumstances of having made the
error she did, in mis-stamping the let
ter, seemed to her troubled mind signih-
cant of deep meaning, and that even
beyond the grave her father sought to
control her actions.
Annie did not return to the parlor. |
found her seated in the doctors office,
interested in the game which
just at the moment of my entrance he
brought to Il victorious conclusion.
Check
Mate" l cried, finishing the word
for him, and, catching Annie in my
arms, needless of the establishment of
the elderly pair, | demanded my re-
ward.
Well, Joseph Norris, grey-haired,
commonplace and undemonstrative,
came to Greenwich to other nuptials
than his own. He gave away my dear
one with the best of grace, and, after
the marriage, congratulated me on my
admission into the firm. My ignorance
of his meaning was so apparent that,
with a grim smile, he enlightened me.
With my bride acquired a half inter-
est in an East India firm in New York
and Calcutta. If Annie had chosen to
appeal as an orphan, dependent on the
bounty of her uncle, she had the after
satisfaction of knowing that the love
she had won was offered to herself
alone, and not to the golden store that
attracts so many suitors.
My dearest" | sometimes say to
her, "who would think that, in a great
measure, we owe our happiness to a
little postage-stampP"