The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1879-04-17

and brother that he was, had thought it
best toI go to the city, taking adyan-
tagel Of situation offered him by a dis
tant relative, until the mortgage should
beEpaid ~
Only two weeks ago he. had written
cheerfully, saying that the matter would
be speedily settled to their satisfaction;
and now, just as they were expecting to
hear that their home was their own again,
came this cruel letter.
AS Marion had said to her mother, not
even the loss of their home went to her
heart with SO sharp pang as did this
evidence of the change in her only
brother. s.@.rs
That Jack should have grown so
worldly and heartless as to consider his
pecuniary advantage before the gratif-
cation Of his mothers comfort; that he
should allow them to be actually turned
out Of the dear old house, and 90 to re-
side in the strange city, where they
could never feel at home-oh, this was
the bitterest pang of all
So Marion had thought upon first
reading that letter; and, it was not I'M
til hearing Miss 'Melia's words to her
mother that she awoke to the conscious
ness that fate could have even greater
sorrow than this in store for her.
One year ago she had parted from her
accepted lover, Wat Hinton, in mutual
anger on both sides. Wat had become
jealous, and had spoken sharply to her,
and in manner which she considered
herself justified in resenting. =
Wat was too proud to apologize, and
Marion too proud as well as too delicate
to make advances looking to reconcile
alton, and SO they had drifted apart,
both miserable, until Wat had broken
the last link by going to the West. Ell
She heard of him from time to time
through his family, but no word or mes
sage to herself ever came. In all this
while she had looked forward with a
faint, yearning hope to the possibility
of his some time returning, and of all
being made up between them.
But now this last hope was rudely
stricken to the ground. Wat was go
ing to be married. He had forgotten
her, and was lost to her forever.
"Oh, it is hard so hard to bear!"
thought Marion, as, with hands uncon-
sciously tightly clasped, she passed
slowly under the apple boughs of the
old orchard. "Life is bitter. It has
taken all from me. It can have no more
to give. Only my dear, dear mother,
and Myra For their sakes must be
strong, and try to bear it ALL" gGf- .sh
On the verge of the orchard, where
the high bank slcped abruptly to the
meadow, she came to mass of tangled
honeysuckle, fashioned into rustic
arbor. Wat had made it for her, and
here, in fact, it was that they had last
parted.
Down in the meadow ran little
pathway, leading by short cut to Watts
home, couple of miles away. How Of
ten she had sat here or an evening and
watched for him! sl.
She could scarcely look back upon
any object now before her eyes which
was not connected with some associa-
ton of Wat. d25 fa
There was the walnut tree which he
and Jack used to climb, and there the
clear, laughing brook in which he had
taught her to steer the little boat which
he had made for her, laden with grain,
down to Jacks famous water-min, at the
roots of that old willow. ~ nj
Further up was the real "grist and
saw-mill, which Jack had always been
so DESTROYS of owning, and which every
body said would be such a good invest
ment for one who could manage it
properly. ,t.
And then Marion, seated on the bench
in the rustic arbor, turned and looked
long and yearningly at the old farm
house peeping from the great beeches
across the orchard. No other place on
earth could ever be home to her. And
her mother? Oh, it would be harder
still for her, whose whole life of fifty
years had been spent under that roof.
A sudden sound aroused Marion-a
sharp whistle as of some one calling to
dog, and she saw through tear-dimmed
eyes the figure of man hurrying along
the pathway in the meadow. She drew
back behind the screen Of the honey
suckle.
The path led past the arbor, but at
the foot of the steep bank she would not
be discovered in her retreat. So she
thought; but moment or two after there
was sound of footsteps ascending the
bank, rustic of the honeysuckle branch
es, and Marion saw standing in the en-
trance of the arbor the figure of tall
young man who looked almost as much
startled as herself.
For moment they gazed at each other
Marion pale, and the stranger with
flush rising on his handsome face. Then
he said, as he held out his hand, Marion,
don't you know me?"
She gave him her hand in silence.
1t was Wat. And suddenly with the
sight of him came the full bitterness of
her sorrow, in the consciousness that he
was lost to her forever. She was nothing
to him now, and he must be nothing to
her.
II am glad to have so unexpectedly
n