The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1879-01-25
A NOBLE RESOLVE.

"No, Charlps-it cannot be. As {
friend l shall respect and esteeG you
but l cannot De your wife. Have com
passion and do not press me further"
/ Mary Granville stood before me q,
she thus spoke, with her hands clasped
and her head bowed, trembling; and
| fancipd that there was q tear in hel
eye. She was a beautiful girl; and
had thought her as good and as pure as
she was beautiful; and further than
this, had believed she loved me. SHE
was an orphan, and was teaching one
of our village schools.
OF her early life l had known moth
ing, save that she had been well edu-
Gated, and had moved in good society,
and had reason to believe that at some
time her parents had been wealthy; but
her father had failed in business; and
it had been said that the sad reverse had
killed him. Mary was poor-was de.
pendent upon her daily labor for sup.
portland the thought that l could
offer her comfortable home, with the
advantage of moderate wealth, had Civ
en- increase to my prospective happi.
ness. But this unexpected answer
had dashed all my hopes to the ground.
DO you mean," cried vehementiy,
"that. you dismiss mt? Am l cast
on?"
81 cannot be your wife" she replied.
"Then." said / with more warmth
hhan might have display ed under other
circumstances Il leave you to your
self, and while | strive to shake off the
love that has bound me to you, will
only hope that ere you lead another
into your net, you will keep him after
you have caught him!'
She gazed upon my face with pain
full, frightened look; hut did not stop
to hear her speak. While she stood
pale and trembling, l turned and lett
the house.
Under other circumstances mighthave
been more cool and collected in my
speech. was heated with wine. Ihad
drank just enough to give the brain an
extra impulse; and my words were not
chosen as Iwould have chosen them had
the split of wine been absent. AS l
walked home | sought to persuade my
self bad fortunately escaped the srares
of a coquette. / stopped al the hotel
where | found few Of my companions
and helped to dispose Of half Il dozen
6o.t,cs Of vine
On tie following morning l woke
With headache, and when | called to
mind the events of the preceding even.
ing | was anything but happy. 1 began
to realize how much had loved Mary.
Thare was an aching void IN my hrGri,
and | fairly wept as | contemplated my
loss. 1t was my love, and its influence
had permeated every FIBRE of my being.
The beautiful girl had become more
dear TO me than l could tell, and
groaned in bitter anguish when
thought that she was lost to me forever.
l nad resolved that would feel very
angry and indignant; but when the
sweet face was called up to mental
view, such feelings melted away, leaV.
ing me sad and desolate.
On tie following Sabbath attended
church, where saw Mary once more.
She played the organ as she had done
for years past, AMI as her fingers swept
over the keys ianeiad that could de.
tect tremuousnesS which / had never
noticed before. Was it only my i'm
agination, or was there really plain.
tivGness, a sadness in the expression Of
her music? to me it seemed as though,
at times, the organ groaned and wept.
1t was like waillng of the daughter of
Zion by the rivers of Babylon. When
the services were over, and we welt
out from the church, l saw Mary's face,
it was as pale and wan, as though she
had been sick. What could it be-? Was
she suffering as suffered the thought
flashed upon me that some one had
been telling her something to my disad-
vantage. had enemies in the village
enemies who envied me because had
inherited some wealth and l fancied
enemies who envied me the love of
Mary Granville.
Another week passed. 1 could not
read, for my mind was never upon the
page before me. Another Sabbath at
the church and | saw Mary again. 1t
seemed to me that she was paler than
before, and her eyes looked as though
she had been weeping.
During the succeeding week re-.
ceiyed visit from my old college chum,
Jack Stanton, who had just opened a
law Office in BeryviIe. After supper,
as we sat in my cosy parlor smoking
our cigars, ] suggested bottle of wine.
Jack shook his head.
"No, Charley" he said, "we'll leave
the wine for those who need it,"
"YOu used to d9Ink, Jack"
"Yes; but it never did me any good I"
"And do you think it ever did you
any harm?"
"As for that will not say; but
will tell you what can say; it never
shall do me any harm! ! know it has
harmed others who were as strong as
am. BY the way, Charley isn't Mary
I Granville here"
YES" said l.
"DO you know her?"