The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1879-04-03

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himself to Mrs. Boyd's house.
He stood moment after being shown
into the parlor, his heart wildly throb.
bing with hope and agitation, when the
door opened and in walked Mrs. Anne
Boyd. She glided up to him with face
so full of blushing emotion, he thought
she came to congratulate him, and with
the abounding affection engaged people
have for all their relatives in prospect
he stopped and kissed her fresh, sweet
lips.
How did you know where to find
me?" she said, blushing. I" / forgot to
tell YOU in my letter that had been liv-
ing here the past year. When Nan was
married she left me In CHARGE"
Married!-Nanm echoed the gentle
man, aghast..
"Oh, you must have missed the letter
| ] sent to Nice telling you all about it.
She married an Engisman, living now
in Boston, and they went abroad to see
his friends"
The truth flashed on him like stroke
of lightning: it was Anne with whom
was engaged; Anne he was expected to
marry Nan was lost to him forever.
He turned very pale, and reached his
hand toward the table for support. Anne
thought he was faint; with tender haste
she pushed chair toward him, gently
put him into it, and poured few drops
of cologne from flask on the table on
his head; the fresh, delicate perfume
made him shudder for years afterward.
He saw in one glance the position before
him; one life must be ruined, his or
hers. The moment that passed over him,
as he leaned back, sick and faint, con-
scious that Annie's eyes were fixed on
him anxieusly, was long as some placid
lifetimes. Thanks to constant habit of
self-control the dizzy whirl of emotion
turned to his face; he said to himself
that the life already wasted could find
no help in destroying another Annie
was innocent of any intent to harm him !;
she was a woman, too; both as man
and Christian minister it was his duty
| to protect and honor her. He looked up
| quickly and smiled.
Excuse me, DEAR" he said, hoarsely
81 was very tired"
He told the truth and no more. Had he
been capable of deceit, Anne's honest ma
| ture would have detected it; but of an
| untruth he was incapable; and now, as
he sat beside her, and his mind returned
| to its own balance, he involuntarily be-
| gan to weigh the possible ameliorations
of his dreadful mistake. He could not
marry Nan now; she was hopelessly be
yond his reach One facter of the prob
| lem was forever set aside, and that the
| greatest. Then he recalled the letters
that he had received from Anne, what
| fine and lovely traits of character they
disclosed. Here his head began to whirl
again; for it seemed impossible to sepa-
rate the vision of Nan he had built up on
that very foundation from the reality
| which belonged to Anne. Nan would
have thought his love-making cold in
deed; but Anne was shy and reticent
herself She could feel and feel deeply:
but she could not be demonstrative, and
| she dreaded demonstration in others. 1t
| was quite in accordance with her nature
that, after long, quiet evening of con-
| versation, Mr.. Norton should part from
| her with one grave kiss on her forehead.
| Nan would have clung about lis neck,
and put her peach face up to his for ca
resses, as n flower seeks the sun. He
| knew how it would have been, and for
one mad moment sickened with thwart-
ed passion; but Annie never saw it. She
trusted him implicitly, and after her pure
prayers fell asleep, like n happy child
and dreamed of him and her future
home. But what a night awaited him /!
| Sleep fed far away. He had in her pres
ence been able to preserve calmness at
| least, and resolved to accept the stua-
ton; but when he was alone, all the past
| came back on him like an armed man.
| 1t was night never to be forgotten. In
| the morning he went to Mr.. Clark's and
| told them of his engagement, and asked
them to the quiet wedding next day.
| They were all surprised, and congratu-
lated him with such warmth and sinceri-
| ty, lavished such love and praise on
Anne, that he felt almost guilty in ac-
| cepting the pleasant words, conscious
how little they deli ighted him. Harry,
| as soon as they were alone, proceeded to
| enlarge on Annes charms.
ITO tell you the truth, old fellow,
have been nightly smitten with that
| lady myself; but she has behaved like n
| lay nun the past year. / couldn't under
| stand it. Somehow or other got it into
my head you were sweet on Nan.
| even went so far as to feel sorry for you
| when she married Dalrymple-wlata a
| waste of the raw material and all the
| time you were cutting me out with Anne
You had not heard of that marriage till
Anne told you. 1t was nine DAYS
wonder here; he is fat, fifty, and rich as
Crpsus: that was his charm. Ducats,
my lord, ducats! Nan loves shining
mark; she inherits old Madam Hart's
tastes as well as her name, only the
madam, loved to save, and Anne to
spend"
Here it flashed across Philip that his
letters had all been mistakenly address
ed. Nan was Anne Hart Boyd, and he
had thought the initial belonged to
Anne. From the very first those letters
had gone wrong, and in his own dislike
of nicknames he had never used hers,
but called her Annie always-a tender
softening of the monosyllable that seemed
to express more than the cold stiff name.
The day after, the wedding was cele-
brated. Very quietly and simply Philip
Norton and Anne Boyd were made one.
He could not help owning that the ssft
folds of dark rich silk, illuminated with
fresh white roses on her breast and in
her hair, the warm color on hip and
cheek, the soft hazel eyes, dark and clear
as the brown water of a forest brook, and
the expression of deep emotion on her
face, made her very attractive bride
but even at the altar glimpse of blue,
bewildering eyes, floating gold-lit hair,
| inetfable witchery and sweetness, seemed
| to dazzle his eyes and construct his heart,
but he repelled the dream sternly, and it
| fed.
Had Anne been more selfish and Philip
less strong and sensible, here now was
place and room for a real domestic
| tragedy, of all tragedies most vital and
least dramatic; but each began the new
life in devotion to the other, one from
Ix,A.,