The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1879-06-05
FAINT HEART.

JOnn EVereu naQ kuOWn IluOT cNer
since he could remember; they had gone
to school together; he had spelled above
her and refused to take first place; he had
envied the more daring boys who walked
home with her through the green lanes be-
meath empowering elms, as if il were the
most commonplace thing to do in the world
while he, with his heart in his mouth. tried
o find courage for the effort an d found
himself left behind for his pains. Later
when they first began to 60 out in the world
| together, what tortures she endured when
| she danced with some handsome stranger
| il she rode with his drawer companions; if
Carl Hughes took her off in his wherry
down the silver length of the river, and
lost his way among the creeks Of the silent
marshes. only returning home when the
evening was far spent, and the stars trem-
bled in the heavens, and unwittingly brush
ing past poor John, waiting on the wharf
| in the shadow of some warehouse to see
them landed and safe! Life began early
to seem like pleasant difficulty to him.
| He was always wondering what she was
doing: how She passed the long days while
he was busy in the counting room; what
were her everyday thoughts, her dreams,
and did he hold any share therein. Sunday,
too, soon became the first of holidays, for
| then he was sure to see her.. His fathers
square, ld-fashioned pew almost faced the
congregation. and not a breath or blush
the fiutter of an eyelid or the ghost of a
dimple, was lost upon him. In the mean
time it is probable that Elinor was not
blind. Chances are easily interpreted; ac-
tions sometimes speak louder than words.
There is little doubt, when Carl Hughes
or any of the others stepped out Of con-
cert or lecture room and offered an arm TO
her door, but she understood that John had
been waiting and wavering and longing for
| the favorable moment in which to antici-
pate this attention, which moment would
have arrived, sooner or later, but that Carl
intent on his purpose, and unhesitating in
its performance. had pushed his desperate
way through the crowd to her side, and
had gained the day befol e John had thought
of losing it.
But by insensible degrees one outgrows
this sort of faintheartedness, and pushes
out before Carl Hughes and the indulgent
crowd and wins the prize for the nonce,
but delays to take the next decided step in
| the right path. And so IL was, with John.
| One day he heard that Elinor had given
away her heart TO Mr.. Denormandy, now
ON his travels. However much pain this
announcement gave John, faintheartedness
which, perhaps, was only an exaggerat.
ed appreciation of the object of desire
BECAME something superfiuous, since, il
1 uC Ado uliC0Al ioSt hSis ohooiA hS
fearg 1t is at this stage that one ceases to
doubt and begins 10 suffer. So, now that
he had nothing To lose, he went in and out
| of her presence, with fatal fascination, as
bold as lion. He asked her hand in the
dance without qualm he took her out u
supper or down TO dinner, as the case migh
be he strollcd with her on the moonlight
ed terrace; he played melodies of his OWE
composition upon the flute; he even ven
II l.. IL
| the dazzling reach of the river; and though
he failed TO entanglc himself among III,
ribbons of the marshe', yet the wherry
sprung aleak, and while he pulled homs
| against the tide-as il seemed to him ht
had always been doing-Elinor bailed tn,
boat with her slipper, which he begge(
when they were safe ashore, and the slip
per of no further use to the owner.
II should like to keep it myself" sht
said, "as q mement0 of the day in which
We made shipwrcck together; but you ma,
have it.''
One day he happened 10 say something
| about the time when Mr.. Denormandy
should return from aboard and carry hcl
beyond his reach.
aMr. Denormandyi" said she, knitting
her brows; what should possess him L
carry me anywherey"
The right of possession"
II don't understand you. Mr.. Denor
mandy has no right of any sort in me-"
Excuse me; but l thought heart
heard"
That was going to marry him: Dom
| believe what you hear again. The truth
/ is, he never asked me, though my friend.
declare that he wished il, and i myself had
some reason to expect it; but faint you
know"
~Never won fair lady. And yous
| II was relieved when he left for Europe
II is so hard to say No that one is in dan
ger of saying Yes from compassion
Love is so sweet that il is difficult to refus,
it; and then one has haunting fear o.
some time needing it."
"And woeful waste makes woefu
want. What pity that Mr.. .Denormandy
had not known your compassionate tenn
permanent and been enabled TO take advan
tage of itr''
EDO you think SD ~ she asked.
"No; l shouldn't wish a goddess 10 mar
~ me from compassion-a thousand time,
no"
But this did not mend matters. Now
that there was everything 10 gain or lose
now that the affair was assuming critica
aspect, since the responsibility of the crisi,
and the event were his--the native timidity
NJ his character stepped in to hinder him
Not that he abandoned his position al
| once; il had become too much a matter ol
habit for him to meet her at home and
| abroad ON terms of intimacy, and the habit
was too precious 70 be easily broken. Only
| inch by inch. and almost without his own
consent, he retreated from the ground he
had honestly won. He invited her for no
more lonely pleasurings down the river; il
they went together, il was with crowd OF
friends. On one such excursion they he.
n 4