Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1878-09-27
FORsAKEN FOR THE OLD LOVE.

blasts, weary and desolate as tn
last cadence of funeral hymn. Oh
the shore, scarce ten yards below
the waves came trampling in with
low, signing moaning, that made III
heart ache; and high over all, at in
terVals, rose the wild shrieking cry
of some sea bird, as it SKINNED, soil
tary and alone, over the wild sea.
| arose and walked to the win
dow. In front spread out q pal,
blank of driving rain, and farther OIL
the black, heaving river, with ont
low, darkschoOner struggling wear
lily along on its restless bosom. Ov
erhead, dismal autumn sky, leader
and sunless, sprsad-far and near
above and below, all was dull anG
dssolate.
A strain of music rose on my eal
as | stood there-a song | hated, be
cause she sang it: Ever of Thee
The piano stood in far-off shadowy
corner of our long, high parlor, and
two white hands, sprinkled with
rings, went straying over it with
mastery skill. 1t was no school
girl jingle, hers; every note breathed
fire and passion-fames from the
hot, burning Southern heart Of the
fierce dark beauty singing. What a
voice she had? So rich, so clear, sc
full, SO sweet and plaintivs. So the
tall, dark form bending over her
seemed to think, by his rapt air; and
it was for his sake / hated her. ]
drew long, hard breath as the last
words arose:
Years have not chilled the love L cherish;
True as tee stars hath my heart been tC
-. thee
All! never till life and memory perish
Can forget how dear thou art to me-"
turned abruptly round from the
window, and looked, at them. He
was bending over her till his short
dark curls swept her crimson cheek,
and glittarsd amid her own ietty,
shining braids. He was whispering
in her ear, and the white hands went
wandering TREMENDOUSLY over the
keys, and the long, black lashes
veiIled the dark, lustrous eyes.
Some inward mesmerism told her of
my burning gaze, for she looked up
with start, and for an instant the
hot crimson tide swept across her
bold, high brow. Then she flashed
back glance of proud defiance,
and, with a short laugh arose.
Therel l am tired of singing. Do
you like Ever of Thee Maggie?
No! was my sharp curt reply.
Why, Maggie! exclaimed Alfred
(my betroted lover, reader,) what
taste you have! Not like Ever of
Thee'-why, it is the gem of all
songs?
I am glad it pleases you.
What objections have you to it,
belle Marguerite? said Ernestine, as
she swept in her own indolent, grace,
full way across the room.
My lip curled, forI was not ''belle, !"
and she knew it. Perhaps Alfred
did at that moment, too.
A very simple Aone. hate all
sickly, mawklsh love-songs-Italian
and English. My barbarous taste,
of course; SO sing away, Ernestine,
and never mind me.
o, Maggie! you are such an oddity!
What do you like?
Well, l like the Laird o. Cock
psn,' and the 'Other side of Jordan, ;
and 'Dixis's Land, and all such,
said /, secretly enjoying her look of
young, lady-hke horror at the afro
cious confession.
o grand Ciel! calculated Ernest
ine, in dismay, while Alfred burst
into a loud laugh.
Well done, Maggie! Why didn't
you add % susanna and 'Old Dan
Tucker Ernestine, won't you play
some of these pathetic and touching
songs of her music-loving ladyship?
Ernsstine began protesting earnest
ly and vehemently, that she did not
know one of them-never had heard
of them in her life-that | had to
smile too.
- Perhaps Miss Maggie will favor
US herself? said the young lady, with
half snesr.
Alfred looked at me with a pecu-
liar smile, as if he found it rather
plasant to hear Inc quizzsd. walked
away from the window and sat
down.
No, thank you, l said, coldly.
Miss Maggie would rather be ex-
cused.
Some other time, then, hope to
have the pleasure, said the young
lady, with a smile and 3 bow that
would have done honor to the Court
of st. James, as she took my place
by the window and looked cut. Al
fred stood by the table, turning over
some prints, with q strange, discoR-
tented expression on his handsome
face. How well l knew what it
he had already begun to
compare his future bride and this
Southern belle; and that
look told the result.
1t went to my heart with a heavy,
pain. 1 had loved him,
and did love him, more than 1 had
words to say, more than he could
dream of, and this was my return.
Only one week before, as we wan
dered on the shore one serene, moon
light night, he had told me he loved
me too; tiny circlet of gold that
cleaned like line of fire on my
finger recalled it. Loving as I did,
it ought to have made me very hap.
py; and yet, with the first shock of
q Joy too intense for words or smiles,
went strange thrill of nameless
pain and doubt. You have seen
mornings that have risen in cloud
less splendor, the whole eastern sky
one blaze of crimson and gold and
fire, and you know its very beauty,
so dazzling, so splendid, is sign
it can not last-that before long,
clouds, black and leaden, will sweep
over it and blot all its beauty out.
So it was with me, sleeping or wax
ing; that nameless pain lay small and
aOre ut the hoftom of my heart