Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1880-05-13


my soul. But never mind my troubles
the favor you spoke Of" said he, the ingenious
blood rushing to his brow. "What is it?"
"It is unimportant, Graham; have re-
considered it. Her own heart will teach her
all my farewell would be. said Davie, sadly.
Graham's lips quivered.
"You have not forgiven ME"
Davie turned look full Of affection on
him, as with his genial smile, he placed his
hand on his shoulder.
"Prove it then by claiming what you de-
sired of my friendship said Graham.
Davie hesitated.
"Nay, then, l will myself indite them, and
my own heart will give them tenderness
that even your love cannot surpass and |
will bid her be of good courage, for l will
move heaven and earth before one hair of
your head be injured. And when happier
times bless you with her love, think some
times of one whose passion, though not equal
ing yours in purity. surpasses it in intensity,
and who has lost with hope, everything that
makes life DEAR"
"Graham," said Davie; but it was some
moments before he could continue. "Had l
but foreseen this, could curse myself for
my folly. I might have warned you; but
from earliest childhood; claimed her as so
wholly mine, I never thought of another dis
putting the right. Her cordial and affection.
ate manner-has it encouraged you'll" said
Davie, hesitatingly.
"God knows-no,' replied Graham, bitter
ly. "Though kept from some hidden cause
to betray her feelings, yet every word, every
action, taught me how hopeless was my suit,
till 1 was fain to believe her soul was too
pure, too free, ever to mingle with its chastity
the alloy of love-"
"My truthful Ellen" murmured Davie,
with proud SMILE
"Then you came," said Graham, unheeding
the interruption. "Then it was I read her
cherished secret read it in her stolen glance,
tremblingly withdrawn when your eyes met !;
read it in the blush that deepened on her
changing cheek when your voice addressed
her; read it in the liquid music of her words
when her low tones would reply. But why
curse myself with such memories? I learnt
that even as my love was maddening, hers was
fearful. Mine might overset the brain hers
break the heart" He spoke low and vehe.
mently, as in refinement of anguish, his jeal.
Gus love heaped up evidence against himself.
Davies eyes sparkled like meteors, as Gra-
ham spoke, but touched with the hopeless
misery of the look, he said:
"Would that had another Ellen for you,
Graham and now that part from her, new
er perhaps to see her again, would fain
leave her, as dear charge, to your keeping
and believe me when say there is no other
man under Heaven, whom l IL ak worthy OF
the charge. But it would be idle. You say
truly, her brave loving heart will break ere it
can forget"
"There is Hardy's voice." said Graham.
"Quick, Davie; what would you have"
"Give this to Ellen" said Davie, hastily
tearing leaf from his pocket-book and VIZ
ting hurriedly:
II am cast down, but not destroyed. Icing to
hope that is not safe to mention, and yet trust
to your discernment to understand it, and your
words have been prophetic. Fate has prevented
the necessity 1 urged, but doubt if you Will
agree that it is happy fate. My interview with
treme had hoped to tell you all. He is more
to be pitied than could conceive. Still, am
satisfied he is acting from mistaken convictions
of duty, and I have sworn you shall not be sac
rifced. Our oaths stand opposed. 1 trust your
love; he, miscalled duty. do not now fear
concerning you. Heaven bless you, dearest, and
grant we may soon meet never to part, but IN the
relation love- honor and duty, my Ellen, demands
well. DAV1E."
Giving it to Graham, he once more resumed
his calm position, and awaited the moment Of
departure. Hardy, who felt that he had been
wasting time, now hurried his movements.
Graham had but moment to see Ellen.
81 am commissioned to give you this, Miss
Ellen" he said, as he handed her the note.
She read it rapidly. The tone of cheerful
courage did not deceive her. She burst into
tears.
"Ellen," said Graham, almost unnamed
by the sight of the tears of the woman he so
loved, "do not give way to grief. trust d.
vie will yet be free. God knows how earnest
ly l shall work for it."
She looked up with swimming eyes,
"You will, Graham2"
"I pledge my honor to it, Ellen" Her
ewes fell-the color deepened on her cheek.
"Your reward will be in gratitude" she
said.
81 know it, Ellen" he answered bitterly.
Then his tone changing to sad reproach.
"Oh Ellen, why did you not frankly tell
me this before? Do you think I would have
urged my pitiable claims against your greater
happiness? Did you believe me destitute of
generosity and strength, that could not say,
"Bless you Ellen and be happy?"
allow willingly I would have done this.
How longed to say cit is wrong in you to
speak-wrong in me to listen," Heaven
knows. But was bound by a promise ex-
torted in moment of trial, to keep the &C.
cret. Oh if you knew how have suffered
to keep that VOW, you would pity and forgive
me, said Ellen.
"Bound by promise A VOW! What can
you mean? To whom"
She did not answer.
"Ah see; your uncle. Strange, strange,
and yet thank God for this. 1t was the one
fault in your character. / could not recon
cile It with your truth. My ideal is now
perfect-too distant for one so unworthy ever
to reach but yet the angel whose memory
will beckon me to higher hopes, nobler aspi-
rations. God help me, Ellen. While near
you thereis nothing cannot aspire to. |
can welcome sacrifice, welcome even the trial
and anguish by which my souls strength is
tested. But when leave you, must battle
with a love stronger than life, with will that
will not brook denial, with storm of passion
that listens to no reason! Alas why am 1
cut off from such aid-such encouragement 7"
"Be true to your noble nature, Graham"
said Ellen, gently laying her hand on his
arm, with inexpressible kindness in her voice.
"Stand frm-the day of passion and fancy
will perish. We are not living in land of
drea ma hnt of vital realities Be steadfast