Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1880-04-22

part OF Graham, as maze ner 1aln 10 taRe IL
up again, and wait with what patience she
might his convalescence.
One day Graham said to her, "Miss Ellen,
I think can now relieve you from a duty
tina, | fear has been odious to you. See, Mr..
WilIoughby, how her care has cured the ugly
wound" as he barred his arm high in play
full pride.
"You are looking at'my mark" said he,
noticing Mr.. Willoughby's eyes fixed on
broad black H on his arm. THAT call my
coat of arms. 1t was an unfortunate circum.
stance, for it left but painful memory of
father. 1t seems to be an unfortunate arm.
Let me hope your care has blessed it, and
that the arm your kindness has restored may
be your support through life," he whispered,
as Ellen arranged the bandage. Ellen's
usual reply to these daily gallantries was to
color and be silent, but lately, feeling there
was more meaning attached to them than she
had hitherto supposed, answered in the same
tone:
"My duty has been unpleasant in so far as
it has led to you to repeat triaing nothings,
that would fain believe are as meaningless
as they are idle"
He looked up in startled surprise
Good heavens, Miss Ellen, you cannot BE-
lieve would so insult you. Idle and triAing
they may be to you, but believe me, they but
poorly express the emotions of my heart"
"The knowledge of that but adds to my
concern" she replied, frowning coldly, "and |
trust that the future will relieve me from
such evidences"
She arose as she spoke, for she had been
kneeling beside him and left the room. He
covered his face with his hand and for some
time remained silent. Suddenly starting up,
he discovered Mr.. WiIloughby gazing upon
him i'll anxious SURPRISE.
"Are you in pain, Graham" said he ten
derly.
"No-yes; am wounded-but this iron has
entered my SOUL" replied he, bitterly.
"What is it, Graham? What is wrong,"
said Mr.. Willoughby, frightened at his impet-
uous step.
"Why did you encourage me to love El.
len? Why did you not tell me she could
not return my fervent passion? Why ex.
pose me to such misery? Better have died; )"
and he flung himself upon the sofa and buried
his face in his hands.
"What is this? What do you mean, Gra-
ham p said Mr.. Willoughby, approaching
him.
II mean that my life is curse without
Ellen" said he, passonately. "Every emo
ton of my soul is merged in her, and death
alone can root out the love-"
"My boy, my boy, be caln, said Mr.. Will
loughby, tenderly. Glow do you know she
does not love you? You distress yourself
needlessly"
"Needlessly! Methinks she is not one to
say one thing and mean another-and you
encouraged me; you told me 1 could win
her." said he, almost beside himself in disap-
pointment.
"And if you will but be calm, tell you,
you will yet win her. foolish boy. Ellen's
nature is calmer than yours. Give her time
your impetuosity frightens her."
Tell me this Does she love another"
"Another? Whom has she to love? 1t
cannot be-" said MIR. Willougby, slightly
equvocating, for he had suspected it since
the night of Davies capture.
"Davie," said Graham, half whispering the
name even in suspicion, stung by sense Of
ingratitude.
"Pooh a childhoods friend. She has
scarcely seen him since the war broke out,
replied Mr.. Willoughby, coloring slightly.
"Leave the matter with me, Graham ; rest as
sured l will use all my influence for you."'
Graham wrung his hand. /
"My lasting gratitude will be yours, sir, if
you can give me this dearest wish Of my heart.
If could but think it was maiden's mod
esty." :. 49,
"Of course it is. What else can it be p
replied Mr.. Willoughby ; and unwilling to
prolong the interview, he said he would at
once see Ellen, and have the matter deter.
mined.
In her favorite chair, at the bay window,
Ellen sat in pensive meditation. Hesitating
but moment to consider how he should ad-
dress her, Mr.. Willoughby advanced.
"And of what is my Ellen thinking " said
he, as he stroked her hair, and pressed kiss
on her brow.
"Fie! uncle, to ask maiden her thoughts
maybe, regretting the fitting of my last new
bodice, or mourning over my pet bird, or med
itating new trick for Zoe, here" said she,
pointing to the spaniel at her feet.
"Ellen Campbell's head is not wont to busy
itself with such reveries my little lady must
think again.
"Well, perhaps was wondering when those
blue heavens would smile on peaceful land,
or if it would ever be till the troubled hearts
now beating, were laid at rest" she said,
mournfully.
"Too sad by half, Ellen. will not accept
it," replied Mr. Willoughby, sitting by her
and gazing earnestly in her face.
"Then it was reverie that will admit OF
no interpreter" said she, annoyed at the scru.
tiny; "and my heart will not unveil her sa-
cred temple
"Maidens dreampt of lovers when was
young"
"And experience taught them their dreams
were vapory castles, l suppose" said she, pet
tishly.
"My Ellen does not think that all love is
passing breath, surely ?" said Mr.. Willoughby.
"My uncle did not come to my window to
talk to me of love, surely" replied Ellen,
mischievously.
"No, Ellen, did not" said he, throwing
aside the bantering manner he had hitherto
assumed "But come to speak Of lover"
She turned one quick, rosy, sparkling
glance upon him. Then looking from the
window, waited for more.
"I cannot think my Ellen has arrived at
years of discretion without ever feeling the
natural passion. Tell me, is it so?"
There was no answer, unless the eloquent
blood that was dying her very finger tips were
answer
"And who so worthy as the one of all
others my heart so fondly rests upon-brave,
manly and captivating. Tell me, Ellen, is