Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1879-05-29

| friend were not coming. A servant
came in at that moment, and brought
tie farewell letter from Major White
which we have already presented te
the reader. When she had read thi.
letter, the very fountains of her sou
seemed broken mp. She fell dowr
and wept with uncontrolled agony.
| That letter was key to the mys
terry of her own heart. Her fancied
distinction between friendship and
love, vanished and she found she
had long been the victim Of the
"grand passion"
| Perhaps my'readers wonder that
my heroine is married lady. Tia,
was not my faulk She was neve,
married with my consent. This is q
new country; and we have to take
things as we find them. Then, again
at the time OF which ! am writing
| ire girls were scarce in the mines. -
They we're mostly plucked in the
bud; and no vulgar girl would do
for the Major. Those days 10 the
mines, like the early days of Rome
were days of violence, when some
things were done contrary to law. y
Beside, the novelist may create every
thing to his own liking, if he have IN.
vention; but the biographer mus,
confine himself to facts. as IS
STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL.
The following is an exact copy of a
letter written at this time by Madame
Leech to her bosom friend, in Mas.
sachusetts, Miss Florence Hastings,
and which have taken great pains
to secure:
4 DEAREST FLORENCE :-Once more
let me hold sweet communion with
thy spirit. Let my winged thoughts
which dare not repose elsewhere, fly
back to thy faithful bosom. o., rather,
| will fancy myself as in days of girl
hood, sweet Florence. wandering
with you along the bank of the Con-
necticut in the month of August. 1t
is Saturday evening. Let as be girls
again. Let us wear the same calashes
and shawls we then wore, and wan
der along the same meandering path.
Here let US be seated once more be.
meath the shade Of the venerable elm
this sacred old tree which has shell
tered so many generations that are
gone, and will drop its rustling leaves
perchance, upon the grave of another
century-here let US sit, where we
once romanced together. What a
holy repose seems to rest upon the
face of nature The shadow of the
coming Sabbath rests upon it. En-
chanting aa ever seems the narrow
plain, teeming with golden farvests.
The same white cottages and rural
towns empowered in ancient shade
trees lend tranquil beauty to the land
scape. There are still the same crag.
ged old mountains-Mount Tom and
Mount Holyoke, with their stern Pu.
ritanic features, frowning over the
luxuriant plain. Dear Florence 7!
These recollectioDs make me sad. Let
Us sit down and commune together.
! cannot imagine that you are chang
ed since | cav you-that you are not
the same ar!less young girl that you
were, but as you part my auburn
tresses again, | fancy ! hear you say,
"Mary, here is sorrow penciled on
Thy brow, and thine eye looks more
experienced-but oh! forgive me
not more pure" do forgive thee,
Florence; but can l forgive myself
l have learned, my dear girl, too late,
that l do not love the man to whom
/ am married. / strove to love him.
1t was impossible. / did not know
the meaning of the word loue -much
less had | ever felt the all controlling
power OF that passion. My husband
was much absent-indeed, has scarce.
ly pretended to remain at home, since
we moved from Michigan. Circum
stances threw me into the society OF
q young man Of my own age-a man
OF fine address, of education, and wit
but Of rather dissolute habits.
was pleased with his society," found
in him nobler qualities, than perhaps
the world knew he possessed-I
sought to reclaim him. He listene i
to my persuasions. I, too, listened
to the narrative of his adventures in
life. He talked to me of the noun
tains and golden plains of Mexico
described the gorgeous city of the
Montezumas-told me of the Alamo,
and of the perils of San Jacinto-
and / listened, oh !! too fondly listen
ed, and, like Desdemona, sighed and
wondered, and "wished that heaven
had made me such a man." Flor.
ence, loved and still do love him,
Oh! pardon, forgive your erring
friend Thus far am 1 fallen. Oh
the omnipotence of love! knew no,
what it was / thought it was friend.
ship, until he was gone; then, when
IL listened for music. the harp was
broken--when looked for support,
his arm was not there to lean upon
when l looked for light, there was
only darkness. When l looked fol
him and saw him not-when list,
ened for him and he came not, but
sent farewell / awoke from the de.
fusion. | have struggled to forget
him. What am to do? Rum sur.
rounds me. What is character +? what
IS honor-what is life, without him
Dearest Florence If you have loved
as love, You will answer--nothing
nothing. Oh could moralize once
| could talk Of self.respect, and pride
and decornm. These motives NAV
weigh with those who do not need
their restraint; but II, who love
him alone, and have my thoughts
feelings, affections, and almost my
existence, identified with his-I may
perish-perhaps in disgrace,-bul
never shall his dear image be tori
from my heart.
".Florence I am far away from
you in the land Of gigantic rivers
and boundless prairies. sometim
hope that may yet be happy.
have q thousand things to tell you
and thousand questions to ask You
when ! embrace you again, if ever
i "Your affectionate friend,
NARY M. LEIGH.
"P. SIN your next, pIesse inform
me, whether circumstances is a
much worn tor dresses as ever ant
. II =