The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1880-07-09
Select Story.
THE DOUBLE PLOT.
A YOUNG LADY's LOVE STORY.

Never, never, neverr exclaimed George
Abbott.
What pretty picture she made as she
stood up in the might of her pride and an
ger and repeated the words. Although |
was her governess and companion, and
should have felt a keen pang of regret at
such display of temper, found myself ad-
miring the queenly pose of her head, the
full height to which she had drawn her well
rounded figure, and even the very way her
little foot was set upon the graveled walk.
Her straw hat had fallen back from her
face, and its white satin ribbons lay loosely
about her bare neck like bands of silver,
while the moonlight stole over the golden
brown braids of her luxuriant hair, tinging
them with its radiance.
Should speak to her, as was perhaps my
duty, or, like true daughter of Eve, sit by
my window and watch the closing of the
little farce? Alas was but a young gov
erness, comparatively speaking, and the stern
practical life of two years at Somerville
House had not quite rooted out the love OF
sentiment and romance that from early
youth had known welcome home with me
So did the latter-I watched.
But, Georgie,' spoke voice, which al
once recognized as belonging to my young
cousin, Walter Marston, you appear like
one insane. Will you listen to reason?'
Not from you, most assuredly! she re
piled. 4 hate you for the words you have
spoken to me! / hate you-absolutely hat
you'll
There was a moments pause, during
which Walter retired few pacess, put
ting on the airs of prince, while Geor
gle fretted out the ends of her sash with he
slender white fingers.
Very well, said Walter, tossing the brow
hair, which the damp evening made int
soft brown rings, from his forehead. If
am ill, said he, and send for you
Tll never go to you Walter Marston-
never interrupted the young girl.
Very well,' came again from the lips c
Walter, as he turned half reluctantly away
Take this, if you pleasev cried Georgi'
and could see her draw hastily golde
circlet from her finger. And this snatch
ing from her neck golden cross Il war
nothing of yours about mep
DO not dare to thrust such paltry trih'
in my face. George Abbott, or even you ma
find that there is limit to my endurance
said Walter
All the blood of the proud Marstons
Walters veins was at once aroused by II
quiyeriDg tone in which he spoke, as !
tore the baubles from the young girls gras
and ground them into dust with his foo
turning away from her without further wo
or comment.
There was something IN his voice, som
thing in his firm tread as he walked ava
that reused into life memories that hi
slumbered for years within my bosom.
vain tried to crush them back into obi
ion as they came up before me, but it W
an useless task, and, like a weary child
buried my face in my hands and burst in
tears. When young, like George Abbo
for cruel temper had allowed the swe,
est years of my life to slip away from me,
moments time of anger. How the lii
scene had just witnessed cslled back il
the present fair past evening of my J.
How the old yearning for love aud tend
ness sprang up anew within my heart, a
went searchingly out for dear one whom
had taught myself to look upon as deat
forever dead to me! How recalled loo
tones and words that had been so long hu
ed in the chilly town of forgetfulness A
how prayed Heaven for strength to W
firmly, aud without wavering, my cruel "
of thorns, though my feet were torn .
bleeding all the while
AS l sat trying to soothe my pertur'
thoughts back into the quiet channel j
which they were wont to flow, heard
quick step of Walter Marston in the co
dor that led to my room, and before ! co
wipe the tears from my eyes, he rap
hastily at my door,
Il come to bid you good-by,'' he said, 9
met him. Il shall start for home ton
row,
so soon, Walterl How is thisY' asl
Pacing him a chair. Il thought gour
wss to have ended in very different II
liner.