The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1879-11-05

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and then counted fhst thours that
would pass before ! could offer my
inheritance 10 Annie, encnmbered
'with its possessor.
When I.reached home i found ..her
there before me. Ny mother, whc
shadtaken her into favor from the
FIRST, her sweetness and orphaned sit
uation proving passport to her
heart had sent for Annie. to com
municate the good news tehers She
was strangely quiet, a thought, and
there was a troubled look in.herblue
eyes 4 never saw there before. In
fact after a while, a subdued feeling
sstle-dset us al. f1inie disquiet
seemed to impart itself to US. | was
thinking how ! could venture to tell
all my hopes, and my mother, guess
ing what my hopes were, left us to-
.gether the most Of the evening, but
my heart failed me. 1t was only
when / was walking home with An
nic to DR.. Merrill's that l found cour-
age to speak. She led me on by say
ing that | must not think from her
silence that she did no rejoice in the
happy change in my prospects, for
no one could be more sincere in her
congratulations than herself. / an.
swered that my good fortune would
be valueless to me unless | could
share it with the girl I loved.
"The girl you love?" she repeated,
questioningly.
Ifelt my hand tremblc in her arm.
"The girl l love-" l said, in tones
that she might have interpreted, but
failed to do so.
"She ought to be happy woman" +"
she continued. "AIay l ask if l
know her?"
"If you know her?" I cried. "If
you know her? Oh, who could she
be but you?"
"NIe?o
She drew her hand quickly away
from my arm and stoodquite still be-
fore me.
"Nlo! Oh, did you say me?" she
again asked.
And then | saw the moonlight
falling on her face, and it was not
the face of a girl shining in happy
confusion when she .hcafs1the story
of his love from the man she prefers.
1t was paled and shocked, and then
she hid it from me in her hands and
burst into tears.
| needed no other answer. Tknew
my suit was hopeless.
"Don't cry, dear said l, a never
thought to wound you"
81 thought you knew" she went
on, sobbingly. ~ thought my uncle
might have told you. am to mar
ry Mr.. Norris. l got letter from
him to-day. Oh, can you ever for
give me?n
Forgive you, my darling" l said.
81 would forgive you if you killed
me, | think. Don't grieve, Annie, l
will try to bear it."
We parted at her uncle's without
another word, and | went home to
the motherly heart that l knew
would suffer with me, but whose ten
der sympathy would uphold me. in
this hour of bitter trial.
The next day | sent off my resig-
nation to Washington, for my moth
er and / agreed to leave the village
where we had passed SO many quiet
years. 1t was in the afternoon of the
same day that the letter of which l
had spoken, that | now knew was
for my rival, attracted my attention.
| took it up reluctantly-I felt l
would as readily touch u poisonous
snake-and was just about to put
the postmark on, when / saw that
the stamp upon it, instead of being
q postal one was a revenue stamp,
and that the letter, instead of speed
ing off on the wings of love to New
York, must be consigned to the Dead
Letter Office at Washington. With
a thrill Of savage delight l flung it
into the box appropriated to the re-
ception of such castaways, and went
on with my evenings work. With
that work | went on mechanically,
but my thoughts were not agreeably
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