The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1879-08-28
Trust and Love.

To morrow am going to he married I,
who have been set down as an old maid for
an indefinite number of years. The expect
Ell event creates quite commotion in our
hitherto quiet household. My mother says,
"What can do without you2" And my
dear father, whose dark hair begins to be
sprlnkled with silver, says, mournfully, "T
cannot spare my Caroline" though think
he is secretly pleased that his pet "Carry"
is to have such noble husband after all.
My roguish brother Tom goes about the
house singiug-
There Is no goose however gray, but soon or late
she'll lind some honest gander Tor her mat,
And l-all this seems very strange to me.
l cannot realise it that the bridal dress of
snowy stain, with the gossamer vel and
wreath Of orange flowers, can be for plain
Caroline Hudson. But tho strangcst of all
is, that | am to marry John Grant t,-Joh
Grant whom learned to love years ago,
but all thoughts of whom strove to put
far fI Ill me.
1t is six years now since that morning in
early summer, when we walked together
through the green wood, the leaves stirred
by gentle wind, and the birds singing
their morning songs. We were little
apart from the rest of our party, and when
we had gathered our hands full of wild
flowers that were scattered in profusion at
our feet, we set down upon fcllcd oak to
wait for them. was happy on that June
morning, as sat OH that old tree by the
side of John Grant, while lie wrcathed the
buds and blossoms and the green leafes of
the trailing cOnvolvulons among the braids
of my brown hair.
We did not talk much that morning, and
we had sat in silence several moments
when John suddenly said, "Carolinc, 1
want to tell you somcthing" 1t was not
the words that made my heart beat 80 and
the hot blood rush to my cheeks and fore
head, for we had known each other for u
long time, and he had often made conf
dant Of me-but it was the low tone, full
of new and strange tenderness, that thrilled
my whole being. do not know, but per-
haps my voice tremblcd littlc as said,
''Well, what is it, John2" "Camy, dear, -"
but the sentence was not finished-just then
the rest of the party made their appearance,
and eifcctually made an end to all conf
dental conversation.
The next day John Grant left Tunbridgc
on business, which required his presence in
Dev0nshire for several weeks. I did not
see him for some time after his return, and
when he called at last, there was some
change, a restraint, which told me that
those words once on his lips would not be
spoken.
Months came and went, and again he left
home ostensibly for business bat it was ru-
mored that beautiful young girl at Fcrny
CoOmbes whose acquaintance he had made,
was the real cause of his frequent visits to
Devonshire.
In little while it was said, and upon
good authority, that John Grant was en-
gagged to be married to Mary Keating; and
1t was also said that she was very young
and very beautiful. Never till thon, till
knew he was to marry another, was the Sc
cret Of my own heart revealed to me; but
then I know how I had loved him-how
oil hope, all joy, all earthly happiness, was
centered in him-evcn now shuddcr when
| think of that time, when life seemed
such heavy burden, and longcd for a
time to lay 1t down in the grave; but
could not; thorny path opened before
: me, and was to walk in it.
John Grant returned to Tunbridge soon
after his engagement, and in few weeks
Mary Heating came to Elm Wood, on q
visit to his sister. Soon after her arrival /
was invited to a party given during her
stay. dreaded to go, and yet could not
sJay away now pain looked as StOOQ
before my dressing glass that night, in a
plain silk, with few scarlet verbcnas had
said once they contrasted well with my
dark hair9 was early, and of all the girls
) in the room Mary Keating was the most
lovely. DO not wonder he loved you,
Mary; you we're beautiful, as you came
floating into the room, in dress of light
muslin, your golden curls falling over your
sweet childish face, and your blue eyes
running over with happiness, and he--but
:, | dared not look at him long, for was not
very strong.
In the course of the evening was in
troduced to her; and strange as 1t was,
from that moment she seemled to cling to
me. She was child in artlcssncss, and
soon commenced talking Of sJohn," asking
If I knew him, etc. elbow strange he never
mentioned you----lle told me of SO many of
his friends. john john she called rs
he passed us, ''why didn't you tell me
about Miss Hudsoii2 9 you spoke of so ma
ny others. Our eyes met for an Instant,
and tlcn said plying his embarrassment,
Gle has 80 many friends, IL isn't at oil
singular,that he should have forgotten one.a'
B but knew then, as lido now that he had
not forgotten me. tl5