The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1880-02-12
FOREVER /!
ny HARRY HAYWOOD LEEcH.

= "Promisep'
81 do, soiemnly."
sForeverT' continued the solemn,
broken voice.
Forever" cried the weeping maiden
by the bedside.
The wasted hands were raised over
the head of the kneeling figures; the
pale lips Of the dying woman parted;
the tongue tried to utter a blessing, but
all the brightness faded from the eyes.
The woman was dead.
Two young girls knelt at the bedside.
Constance Owen was the name of one,
with sallow skin and large brown eyes;
and Edith Ormond, she was called, with
sringlets OF gold floating around her fair
neck, and whose head was leaning upon
the shoulders Of Constance, who had
promised the dying woman to be a sister,
protector-mother, even-to the fair
maiden ut her side.
The strong, faithful, homely girl
called Constance, was an adopted
daughter to the dead lady-one Of those
walls OF the street, whose only hope Of life
10 in the charity of some tender-hearted
stranger. She, however, repaid her
protector by a love and regard as filial
MS that Of her own daughter; and when,
upon her death-bed, Mrs. Ormond bade
Constance Owen make her the solemn
promise recorded, the brave girl not
only did not falter, but whispered once
more to the stricken girl by her side
Eyes, Edith, for the sake Of the love
your mother gave TO the orphan will
love you better than myself.forever!"
Two years passed-two years since
Edith, the beautiful, and Constance,
the brave, had lost their best friend.
Tine former had grown more lovely, even,
than the promise Of the dawn of her
radiant maidenhood; the latter more
homely, larger featured in the face, but
with years an added dignity of mien, a
more intelligent light in the quiet,
tender brown eyes, and force of char
acter better defined in every movement
There came many . suitor to Bonny-
brook-so thelittIe countFy seat belong
little coquctte did not pay much heed
butterflies OF fancy around the Garden
of Eden-frst youth. But at length
her beauty, grace, and, perhapr, high
social position, brought one day to the
gates Of Bcnnybrook, one DR.. Paulding,
superior and rising young physician,
who lived In the city close by, and
VIXEN he had found his way to that
pleasant country nook, somehow he dis
covered patients in that vicinity very
frequently. Was 1t Edith's fair face
that made him take that blooming high
way sooften?
He was indeed fascinated by her bright
girlish beauty, and one evening after he
had been wandering in the gardens, un-
der the moon, soft, pleasant words must
have been spoken, for after he had gone
Edith, with n flushed face, dashed into
the room whers Constance was'awaitine
her, said in happy, trembling voice
"Oh! darling, I am 80 happy. He has
told me he loved me-"
Constance spoke not a word. Edith
was held moment TO a beating heart
a soft kiss touched her forehead, ant
the next moment she was alone.
Tic loves me, he loves mew anC
Filth looked out over the gardens, from
which the dews of night were distillin,
all their odors; she gazed at the beau
tiful moon, aud peopled the shadow
with the image of the man who hat
first stirred her young life with the di
vine music Of love.
A month after the pleasant confes
sion had been made. Edith was calle,
to the mountains Of Vermont to atten,
dying aunt, the only sister of her dea
mother, and she had to proceed alone
as Bonnybrook would have lacked
guardian IL Constance had accompa
MED her-Dr. Pallding's duties utterl
denying him that pleasure.
Constance was engressed in her hous
duties and saw but little society, save
few rustic neighbors, who yecommende,
themselves by their goodness of heart
and certainly not by the briiliancy o
their wit or understanding. Once an,
awhile DIR. Paulding would ride out t
Bonnybrook, rs Constance told him
"from the force Of old habit" but 500
IL seemed that the man Of medicine an
science did not carry on the converss
tion with the old case, grace, an
spirit. What had come between Cor
stance Owen and himself? Somethin
inexplicable. The noble woman foun
n strange, rare pleasure in the societ
of the gifted man; the scholarly man
sympathy with the large-hearted, in
known or experienced in any of her SCI
"True," he had said to himself, "sh
Is not beautiful; indeed, measured b
- e%S - fNDsss'e
ugly. But who can gauge the charm
OF melodious voice, or define the tel
derness Of an honest, kindly eye?
And she, too, mused in.sthis wise
"This DIR. Charles Paulding is a ma
velously gifted man. What power {
language, what treasures of imaginatio
he posscssest What a noble career /
has before him; and Edith"-here 81
would pause and think of that clingin
tendril, not as helping the growth of I'll
oak, but as drawing from its strength
Yet from all such thoughts as thei
her staunch and loyal heart would re
olutely turn away-yet for all this b,
speech would not come as tripping
on the tongue" as la the old days, ar
he would oftentimes fnish q senten,
in the middle OF il, and then lose hir
self in vague glances at the ceiling
out into the gardens.
Oh, 1t was dangerous time for bot
Of these awakening hearts. But th,
glided on the treacherous stream, al
seemed only conscious that the hou
were sweet and that the sun shone
the waves. There was no thought
disloyalty in either heart. He wi
above all, n man Of honor, and she, of
else, n loyal woman. Yet how hearts I
lude themselves. In the very pride
his strength Samson was shorn of
locks.
One quiet evening In July DIR. Pau
ing had taken tea at Donnybrook, a