The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1880-05-15

| her sudden departure, not dreaming that
| her mistress had also taken flight, and
was already many miles from her home.
When VIII came home to dinner ut
six clock and learned the true state of
things, he grew Us pale as death and
staggered to a chair as quickly as if Il
shot had struck him i'll the heart.
| Grace had left a note on the bureau in
her room in which she stated, in a kind
of hysterical Enoch Arden-like manner,
that she was going back TO her mother,
and might be assured that neither him
self nor Rose would ever be troubled by
seeing or even hearing from her again. 1t
was her earnest wish to die, and over her
early grave, perhaps some gentle thought
of her might stir his cold forgctful heart
into a passing throb of tenderness.
With the note crumpled convulsively
in his hand, Will Thornley, seized his hat
and rushed from the house. 1t mattered
not where he went or what he did now.
and ere the next days sun had set he
made one Of the many thousands Of
Union soldiers marching bravely to the
front, to fail, may be in battle, with face
turned untlinchingly toward the foe, or
die miserably in some noisome prison,
like a Gagged beast, his heart broken and
death 4 welcome release from pain, and
grief and hopeless wretehednesS.
The setting sun was rapidly sinking to
his crimson curtained couch in the west
when Grace walked up the grassy path to
the little white gate, where she and VIII
had often stood in the old, happy days of
their counting, and watched the fading
light steal duskily down among the soft
ly-whispering leaves Of the naples.
4 letter for you, Mrs. Thornley," said
Mr.. Parkhurst, a near ncighbor. Il hap
rened to be passing this way and l
thought you might like to have it,
Oh, yes thank you. she replied, in a
trembling voice. You are very kind
Mr.. Parkhurst gave her the letter and
went on.
Grace recognized the handwriting in
moment. and with glad ''Oh, it from
viii, and he has forgiven me- she tore
open the envelope and hastily ran her
eyes over its contents. The smile faded:
the glad look left her eyes, and with Il
low piteous cry. she fell on her knees
aye, to the very carth-and sobbed out
the bitter remorseful anguish of her
stricken soul:
Gone-Will gone? Oh, no, no. it can
not be. And yet this cruel, cruel letter
only four little lines
You have chosen your way and have
chosen mine All desire in this worlds
speedy and brave death, and go to
meet it as .joyously as ever bridegroom
bridegroom went to meet his bride.
That was all. No name, no date, but
she knew only too well its meaning. She
pressed it to her heart. She covered it
with tears. all the while uttcring the
poor, pititul cry:
"Oh, Will, Will, forgive me. You
must forgive me-you must come back to
me or let NE go to YOU
But alas, her repentance came too late.
Will was hundreds of miles away. and |
between him and Grace's peaceful North
crn home cannon were laundering their |
dread alarm. and wars heroic victims |
were falling by the tens Of thousands.
They found her lying unconscious and |
lifclcSs under the naples,
with her still. white face all wet with |
the night dcws, and her poor, cold hands
clasping close to her heart Wills short.
last letter.