The Lamoille news. (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1877-1881, 1880-09-29
81 will wait for you ALWAYS, my dar,
In a ~ u.sH uFs1l.-1 ..F....--F.-

i
lust when / had boasted in my diary
that we were a living illustration ol
dear old Plato's theory; but you always
were thoughtless."
You are coming to see grandmaP'
she added, presently, as the supper.bell
sent CHEEKY invitation through the
orchard; "she will never forgive you il
you slight her." and, seeing that her
companion hesitated, eff you do not
come l shall think you are offended and
angry with me-"
Would you care, Marjorie, dearP'
Willard asked, eagerly.
"Of course it would make me very
unhappy to think that we, who have
been friends from our cradles, should,
on the eve of my departure, be estranged
about such a trifle as love; something
that you will forget before this fruit
bushes meath August's kisses; and, be-
fore apple-blossoms come again, there
will be a pretty, blue-eyed wife at the
parsonage-Annie Leigh, perhaps-who
will fill the position so much more
worth y and gracefully than l."
"Stop, Marjorie, interrupted Willard
almost sternly, Heaven knows 1 have
borne great deal from you, but 1 can
not endure this unkind jesting when you
well know that as long as life hath
shadows, as long as the heart hath woes,
| shall love you, only you"
"Of course. that is the proper speech
to make just now, Will dear, but l pre-
dict you will console yourself very soon
with Annie Leigh. AS old Mrs. An
drews would say, l feel it in my bones"
Marjorie gained her wish. A few
months after her arrival at her uncle's
Fifth avenue home, she had, like Byron,
walked to find herself famous on the pub
lication of her first prose work. Two
Others followed in quick succession.
But just when my heroine felt she had
almost climbed the height of literary re-
nown, when the praises of an admiring G
public were waited to her like incense,
with only now and then a criticism,
which she insisted only spiced the other
wise insipid ovation, that eccentric
young lady suddenly declared her inten-
tion of devoting her time to American
politics. So thorough was her study of
the subject that she now (six years after
you first met her) virtually stood at the
head of her uncle's widely circulated
and influential daily. She had indeed
climbed to dizzy height where few
women ever ventured. Her editorials
were copied everywhere, her opinions
quoted from "Dan to Beersheba," but
was she happyP some one asks. Was
the mountain as purple and beautiful as
when she gazed longingly at it from the
sweet valley of youthP or did she find it
but common earth after all, and the
mysterious beauty lay in the misty val
ley of girlhood she had left behindP
Marjorie dropped her pen with a
short, impatient sigh. "lt is strange
that little Nell's words should haunt me
SO tonight, ringing in my ears, and
waking echoes of that still, small voice
I had hoped was forever stilled. What
docs that child of eighteen know Of the
the heart, that she should assert so con-
fidantly, Ambition, even gratitied am
bition can never satisfy the inner sane
tuary of your soul; you will never be
happy till you love- Are The words Of
q child to undermine the foundations ol
my theories of life, love and happiness
that six years ago boosted were built
on the solid rock of reason instead of on
the shifting sands of human affection
And yet-have they brought peace to me
after all | would freely give power
fame and ambition for the look in Nell's
blue eyes as she talked of her husband
All! child, with only your trusting heart
to guide you, you'have found and gath.
cred the little wayside flower, happiness
which in my selishness and pride
have missed. Across the chasm ol
years, comes a faint yet never-dyina
echo of the same words.
Willard, you at least truly loved
me. and would have saved me from my.
self, and would not, and now it is for.
ever too late, for the fire in my hear
has burned so low that there is now lef
only faint, tender strain of regret, anc
the white ashes of memory. have in
deed passed the Rubicon of youth anC
hope, and for me there is no redemp.
ton"
Little Joe Harris, Mari cries special
GRAND boy and devoted slave, after ar.
ranging to his satisfaction the furniture
and papers in her private sanctum in
her uncle's large establishment, hat
placed a tiny bunch of apple e-blossoms
on his idols desk, and now stood hal
bashfully watching Marjorie, as she
came in, pale and weary looking from
last nights vigil, and sat down to write
Seeing the flowers, she drew them to-
ward her with look of pleased sur
prise, but, as she inhaled their fragrance
gradually there stole over her face {
shadow, marring its brightness, as {
cloud crosses the face of the sun. The
breath of the flowers was laden wi. i
old associations and men ories of he
happy home at Applicable farm, of he
grandmother, who had long since
crossed that mystic river whose tid'
never ebbs toward the shores of time
and waited on their sweet breath -cam'
her talk with Willard Lester in th'
sun lit orchard on that afternoon S.
: long ago. Then a.full. knowledge OF ne
mistake swept over her, and, laying he
|, cheek against the pink petals, she burs
into q passion of tears. Poor Joe, ut
terly amazed at such a reception of 81
'. paltry a gift, started to her, then stol
9 softly from the room, and stood guar'
outside to prevent intruders. Like tn
smitten rock at Horeb. the tears burs
A