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

1t was only when | was walking home
with Annie to DR.. Merrill that found
courage to speak. She led me on by
saying that l must not think from her
silence that she did not rejoice in the
happy change in my prospects, for no
one could be more sincere in their con-
gratulations than herself. | answered
that my good fortune would be value
less to me unless | could share it with
the girl loved.
THE girl you love?" she repeated,
questioningly.
felt her hand tremble on my arm.
1.-The girl | love- | answered, in
tones that she might have interpreted,
but failed to do 50.
"She ought to be happy woman"
she continued. May | ask if l know
her?"
IF you know hery" | cried; IF you
know her! o, who could it be but
you?"
"Me?"
She drew her hand quickly away from
my arm and stood quite still before me.
Me! 0, did you say me?"
on her face, and it was not the face of
girl shining with happy confusion
when she hears the story of his love
from the man she prefers. 1t was pale
and shocked, and then she hid it from
me in her hands and burst into tears.
Don't cry, DEAR" said |, 81 never
thought to wound you"
81 thought you knew she went on,
sobbingly. (" [ thought my uncle might
have told you. l am going to marry
Mr.. Norris. o, can you forgive me?n
She stretched out her little hands i'm
ploringly. | took them in mine and
kissed hem-they were sacred to me;
they belonged to another, and kissed
them while my heart was breaking.
Forgive you, my darlingn' | said.
/" | would forgive you if it killed me, |
think. Don't grieve, Annie; | will try
to bear it -
We parted at her uncle's without an
other word, and | went home to the
motherly heart that knew would suf-
fer with me, but whose tender sympa-
thy would uphold me in this hour of
bitter trial.
The next day | sent off my resigna-
ton to Washington, for my mother and
| agreed to leave the village where we
had passed so many quiet years. 1t
was in the afternoon of the same day
that the letter of which | have spoken
that | now knew was for my rival-at-
tracted my attention. | took it up re-
luctantly-I felt that would as readily
u oh nd
was just about to put the post-mark on
it when | saw that the stamp upon it,
instead of being a postal one, was a
revenue stamp, and that the letter in
stead of speeding off on wings of love
to New York, must be consigned to the
Dead Letter Office, in Washington.
With a thrill of savage delight | flung
it into the box appropriated to the re-
ception Of such castaways, and went on
with my evenings work. With that
work went on mechanically, but my
thoughts were not agreeably employed.
That, then, was the answer to the mis-
sive she had received. But it should be
long before he would get it-get it too
late, perhaps, for an explanation, for
misunderstanding between lovers had
often arisen from a slighter cause than
the nOn-arrival of an expected letter. |
pictured him waiting and longing for
the letter that would not come; and she,
poor girl, how her tender heart would
be tortured by his imagined neglect
when no answer would be forthcoming!
She, | knew, would suffer in silence,
and | 'fondly hoped that he would do
the same. So locked up the mailbag
and waited for the messenger to carry
it to the station. The express would
pass in an hour and half; and then a
struggle began in my heart. The mis-
stamped letter seemed to look reproach-
fully at me from the box into which
had thrown it, and seemed to whisper
to me that one little act of mine could
send it unimpeded on its mission.
No one, l believe, unless he was in
my situation, actuated by the same de-
spairing, selfshly hopeful feelings that
We're overmastering me; could under
stand what base impulse | conquered
when at last, after an hours tempta-
ton, took that letter from its resting
place, substituted postage stamp for
the revenue one, opened the mailbag
and let it 90. Then after it was done
some hot tears gushed to my eyes. 1t
was my last hope, and | could not help
INDUCING some weakness over its grave.
The next mail from New York ar
rived three days after. had the poor
satisfaction of seeing the results of my
good action in a letter in the handwrit-
ing of my rival, addressed to Annie,
make its unwished-for appearance, as |
knew it would, and shortly after DIR.
Merrill took it away with him as he
called for his mail. Loungers came in
and out of the office, and went away,
finding me little disposed for CONVERSE
ton. Nothing yet was known in the
village of my acquisition, so | was
spared the pain of listening to con-
CALCULATIONS that | was in no mood to
hear When | went home that evening
was surprised to find my mother alb
sent, and still more surprised when, on
opening note she had left for me, [
learned she was with Annie at DR.. Mer-
rill's, and that | was to follow her
there. Hopeless as felt, the prospect
of seeing Annie again promised me
only painful pleasure, but still the
thought Of being near her had a sweet
and sad fascination that | could not re-
sist. When | reached the doctors |
found himself and my mother seated in