Litchfield enquirer., 1879-07-17
WHOLE NO. 2771
..Whx not 2 do von not care fer me 2n

and clasped her hands tightly together. ''If you had loved me enOugh to make me your | wife before you became rich, we might have been happy. God knows, l leved you then, But the years that have followed have altered me so that sometimes scarcely recognize my self. I have grown old in heart, and no longer l desire to form any ties beyond those have al- ready. loved you once very dearly, but | through all these years it has been dying, and 1 it is long now since told myself that, though | we might always be friends, my love was dead" "No, not dead. Oh my darling, never dreamed of this, or that your life was really | hard, as your words imply. Forgive me, | Lima, and don't look at me with that still look. My own, my only love- shall gomad if you cast me off" ....t ...a.. ..,..s- "Hush there is some one coming. Good bye, you will soon forget this. have learned to forget. I am sorry you have spoken now; | the hope that you ever would died long before | the love of which it was born. You will find some woman younger and fairer than |, who am no longer young she, perhaps will love you now as once did. Goodbye"
 | She held out to him her little, cold, white hand he mechanically took it, dropped il, and ! she was gone. ..... 4s.e.r.r .e' When mamma returned from her visit to the kitchen she found poor Edwin ''all abroad" At first being short sighted, she noticed noth- | ing, but after some vague conversation he rose and, complaining of not feeling quite ''up to the mark" took his leave. Mamma after wards described his appearance as being that of one walking in his sleep. .. ! She had refused htna! His first feeling was one of surprise intense, blank surprise. He had so often pictured this meeting, but SO diff l ferently, that, now it was over, the aching | surprise seemed more than he could bear Next came sorrow, then anger; then he thought of all she had said, which came evil | dently from her heart of hearts, He felt how selfish his conduct had been why had he not been by her side all those years and shielded her from this hard life She had called her. l self no longer young, and he had noticed lines 1 in that brow which used to be so smooth and fair. In his despair he groaned aloud. | His love for her was greater than ever l; he | could not bear this punishment. Nol he would write to her and beg forgiveness she used to be so loving years ago: he would l write letter that no woman could withstand. And with this grain of comfort in his ocean of | trouble, he went home thoroughly tired out by | the long walk he had taken. G.. | The best part of the next day he spent in composing the letter that was to do so much, | and before its was finally folded and placed in it's envelope the floor of his chamber looked | as if snowstorm had passed over it. The | letter contained deep contrtion for having al- | lowed her to work as she had done, and many sincere regrets that he had not asked her, when | they were both younger, to share life with him | but (and then came the part about which, un- l consciously to himself, blinded as he was with self, there was false rlng) he ''had waited till | he had a meme, such at it was, as well as a 1 hOnae to offer her, etc. .. | The five years which by him had been spent l in comfort and influence had been spent by her | in hard uncangOa;0l ~rvFh, uIUi ficr HearL na0 | within har al1 OirliSh ideas Of love and marriage had flown forever this he saw, but he quite forgot the cause. However, there | was still faint ray of hope, and with the first | feeling of comfort he had experienced for two long days, he turned his back upon the post l office into which he had dropped the all-im- portant letter.
 As soon as it would have been possible for him to receive an answer, supposing she wrote immediately, he watched eagerly for the post man, and that was the following day at break fast tine He was not exactly disappointed | at not getting one then of course her answer l would take little time and thought probably | she would write during the day. and he would | get it at night. On his return in the evening | he did feel a pang when he found nothing awaiting him. Hope, however, again ''told | flattering tale ;" he must not be impatient: uOACu GIlEdl uaNC bdhCu up HcE | time, for hers were hands that always found | work to do do. Doubtless her answer would reach him on the following day. But alas ! the next day brought the same result, and the next, and the next and he had just begun to admit to himself that the letter was failure, when another rap of hope unexpectedly light. ened his dark prospects --. .,. ..
 He gained from a conversation he Over- heard between his mother and sisters that An | line bad aft hnrh fo at.Snf who lived alone. She had gone the day after that on which he had made her the offer, and had not received his letter, therefore, 6ef0re she went. Dying hope now sprung up almost as strong as ever Perhaps the letter had nev- CT been forwarded, or not until now; perhaps it had been mislaid; perhaps the aunt had deen so ill that Angelina could not even find time to write him line. He resolntely turn- ed deaf ear to the voice of his heart, which began, "L0Ue would have found time." Per- haps fifty things; but oh. heart close thy doors against the cold, dreadful feeling of de- spair, the certainty that his appeal was vain. So the next week stole away and the next, and the next, and his sorrow, now @ month old, was growing heavier every day.
 One morning, just as the fifth week had commenced, he found on [ is study table lit- tie modest-looking note in her pretty, careful hand She began by apologizing for the delay
 
 mislaid, and only forwarded to her, and she then thanked him for the honor he had done her; but she really meant what she had said {: and though she regretted it, she could aaeUer marry him. They were unsulted to each Oth- er-and so forth. at He felt for the moment, as he pressed his hand to his head, as if his mind were leaving him. This calmness of hers was so crushing.
 But he had one lGst card to play; he would see her once more, and all that mortal man could do to make her change this terrible decree Ae would do, and with flushed cheek and an un- natural light in his eye, he hurried form the house.
 On the following day, lovely day in the beginning of August, he arrived at N, pretty little Hampshire village, and after mak- ing few inquiries, found the house, "a little cottage villa on the outskirts of the village. AS he walked up the shady road leading to the house, hat in hand, enjoying the refresh ing breeze, for the heat of the day was over, his quick eyes perceived the two ladies in the garden. The old lady, now convalescent. was seated in low American chair on the lawn. It was five o'clock, and they were taking tea, | which was spread on the grass. Angelina sat at her aunt's feet. It was long time since he had seen her with this SGaas-sOuet air-it re- l minded him of ten years ago. She wore thin | white dress, and long waving's waving lock of her brown hair had escaped from the neat cOtte in which she always wore it. Years seemed to have been lifted from her shoulders since he last saw her, but the pretty apple blossom in Ter cheeks, which improved her SO wonderfully, quickly faded when she recog- nized their visitor. ., i.,..rt.tf -.
 After first greetings, he muttered something about being in the neighborhood, and think ing he might be allowed the privilege of call ing He then devoted himself to the aunt, who straightway fellin love with, ,him and think ing with wonderful acuteness that he had come to see Lima, determined that he should have an opportunity of doing SO. She there fore presently requested Aegelina to take him into the house and give him some tea she would prefer remaining out little longer, if they would kindly excuse her. The oppor- tunity had come, but it was of no use he beg
 ged, he entreated, to no avail. She ''no longer
 loved him, !" and nothing could induce her to
 marry him new.