Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1878-03-01
Original Story.
ST. VALENTINES DAY.
B Y "E G ! L A ~

A bright fire was glowing in the
CRATE and lighted every corner of the
room as Richard Alcott entered and cast
his eyes around.
Nothing changed, but my poor SELF"
he muttered as he drew his chair in front
of the fire and indulged, as was his wont,
in thoughts of the past. Although in
the prime of life, handsome, wealthy land,
to all appearances with every thing to
make life endurable, he was one of the
most miserable of beings, and the return
of st. Valentines day always renewed
his trouble. We will tell our readers
why he was particularly sad on that day.
Five years previous to the opening of
our story, Richard Alcott was the ac-
cepted sutton of Bertha Wainwright, the
only child of the most aristocratic gen.
tlemen of the State of New York. She
was all that man could desire to fill
the void in life, and as Richard had often
told her, his bachelor home, like his
heart, was lonely without her.
ooh ! Rich, am so afraid that some
thing will happen to separate u.s." she
had said to him on his last visit. awe
have so far proved that true love can
run smooth, but sometimes think that
such happiness cannot last; nothing has
ever happened to cloud my life, and |
tremble lest change should come"
"My darling" he answered. 1--WE can
disappoint the fates. Let us marry before
anything can happen. Won't you, dar-
ling, be my valentine p
mo, no, Rich, l cannot rush so sud-
denly into matrimony. After all, though
you call me your angel, I am only a
aconlan land what would become of all my
dreams of wedding trousseau and bridal
presents But now | have it: you
say l have never told you exactly how
much loved you, and what loved you
for; now I've been thinking for some
time of sending you a valentine, so you
must guess what it is to be and see if
you guess right.
st. Valentines day beamed bright and
clear, and among his many calls, the
postman,
'Tha Genius, Indifferent and stern,
Who shakes out even-handed to all, from
his urn,
Those lots which so often decide II our day
Shall he frelfu and anxious or joyful and
gay"
left at the home of Richard Alcott, the
fatal Valentine.
Our hero had not yet made his appear
ance in the study, and Bridget, thought
she would take the handsome envelope,
which her keenness detected was Val
entinc, to the kitchen with her. She
loved her master, but she loved some
one else better. She had heard of the
trick of opening letter by stcamiDg, so
she determined she would see what was
in this. Now the girl could not read
nor did she know that her master, whom
she would die for rather than make I'M
happy, was 10 love so used was she to
hear him laugh over the notes and
poetry he received and give them to her
to burn. Bridget was quite sure he
would do the same with this, and, as
she had often borrowed the poetry from
the flames, she felt this would be the
very thing to send to her darling. We
can hardly blame her for appropriating
the valentine, it was, as Bertha had said.
exactly the state Of her heart, magnif-
cent valentine in every detail with
heart in flames.
"Oh, my 4! wbat'll Jenny say whin
he gifts it I'm sure it'll bring him up
if he liver is goin to AK me at all. Now
for the masther. must fix sumthin for
him, for the first thing he says. ses he,
Bridget, any letters for me- An l
wouldn't tell lie for all the valentines
in the wurrelcd. nor Jemmies either I'll
jes slip to the corner and git one and paste
it up in this thing, for shure can't
write. An thin, too. know the mas
tber'll give it back to me, and I'll jes
hev the hull thing pcrfc. I'll git him
to paste somethin over bis own name and
write my Jemmy's for me. God bless
my good mastber, but wish him good
luck"
Poor Bridget little dreamed the an
guish she, poor creature, could cause one
50 far above her. but SO IL was, After