The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1878-06-12

I 80 Nv
! dear Hugh. Before our separa'
tion I did not realize how much ]
loved you. Oh, | pray it may not
be long"
Mine was an ordinary lovers
tale. l had gone from college to
a distant city, there to begin my
law practice; there, as fate or,
dered, to meet a fair-haired girl
who from the outset, held me
captive, and to whom [ bowed
with an alteration as boundless az
uprestrained.
A month engaged then unex.
pected events had called NE home.
There was pain at separation
there was pain in absence still
| yet, this day, mid it's pain a
! sweetness, since, otherwise, /
might pot have read the words:
"Before our separation [ did
not realize how much I loved
you. Oh, 1 pray it may not be
long"
1T shall not be long," l. MUIR
INJURED. MY darling, it shall not
be long" And l pushed, from
that moment, with quite frenzied
determination, the business which
had summoned me home.
But fate daljied. Days passed,
and weeks; the roses were fading
in Gysie's garden, and still per:
force, stayed. At first | found
comfort in letters it was solace
to rain kisses On my darling's
miniature. But a time came when
these did not suffice. | chafed
impatiently, and was on the point,
at any risk, of bursting the shack
les which so piteously chained me
there.
Suddenly. there came a blank.
/ Days passed, and no letters came
to my table. Despite my re
peated inquiries, [ found no an
swer there. But the blank only
made me cling to my passion
with daily increasing trust and
hope. So, till the sequel came.
1t was a tempestuous, rainy
evening I walked homeward; past
Gysie's garden, to sec the wind
beating down the roses to see the
last lilies bent, wilted TO the
ground. I walked homeward,
with no presentiment that so,
even, were my hopes.
The lamplight rested on the
smiling picture it fiickcred gaiIy
on the envelope beside.
"A moments pause, an instinc-
tive shock; then | tore it open
with joyful cry.
1t were easy to read:
X have made a mistake, Hugh.
l believed that loved you, but l
have changed. I have no excuse,
save that I love another, and so
must break my engagement with
you. You would not have it
otherwise? ?"
That was all.
| stood minute, spell-bound,
clenching the dainty message in
my hand. A minute, bewildered !;
then, with o sudden, frenzied
movement I struck the smiling
picture with force that hurled
it, shivered beyond recognition,
at my feet.
I could have chosen no better
calming medium with this effort
my frenzy sank there remained
to me but vague sense of
suferlng-a vague longing for the
sympathy I was so soon to find.
And, ctively, half mechan.
ically, I strobe forth into the tenn
pest, never pausing till I stood in
her presence, my hands still
clenching the letter, my anguish
written Enthusiastically in my face.
She started involuntari!y. Again
her little white hand sought
mine.
"Hugb," she said, "dear Hugh,
what i'll news"
But the soft touch, the tender
words, were, as in former days,
the key that unlocked my soul.
Clinging to her hand as to an
anchor, looking deep into her
true eyes, I told her my story.
I poured forth my bitter anguish
as unreservedly as L once had
done my joy.
She sat calmly listening, calmly
witnessing my storm Of woe. Still
calmly, when pausing, I bent my