Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1881-05-07

I TuiHH Oi bPduty. sno Is pDsltiNSiy
ugly. But who can guage the
charms OF a melodious voice. or
detile the tenderness OF an honest
kindly eye.
And she. too, unused in this wise:
This DR.. Charles Paulding is a
marvellous, gifted young man.
What powers Of language, what
treasures Of .niyination he p0-
sesses WHAT nobe career ne
has before him. And Eiithp-
here she would pause and think
Of the cinging tendril, not rs help
ing the growth of the oak, hut AZ
drawing from its strength Yet
from all such thoughts as these
her staunch and loyal heart would
resolutely turn away-yet for all
this her speech would not come
as trippingIy on the tongue as in
ths old days, and he would often
times finish a sentence in the mid
die Of it, and then lose himself in
vague glances at the ceiling or out
into the garden.
o., ii was a dangerous time for
both OF these awakening hear S.
But they glided on this treacher-
Gus strelm and seemed only con-
conscious that the hours were
sweet, and that the sun shone
on the waves. There was no
thought of disloyalty in either
heart He was above all a man
of honor, and she loyal woman
Yet how hearts delude themselves.
In the very pride of his strength,
Sampson was shorn of his locks.
One quiet evening in July DIR.
Paulding had taken tea at Bonny-
| brook, and Constance-his "host-
ess' only, she called herself
strolled down to the gate with
him. His impatient horse was
biting the rough old hitching-post
and throwing up clouds of dust
with his forefeet. He had been
kept there four hours, and he
seemed more eager than his mas
ter to leave Bonnybrook behind
him. The doctor idly .plucked
some heliotropes as they strolled
down the rose-bordered paths,
and mingled with the flowers some
dainty mignonette and pale bud
or two Of the tuberose. AT last he
placed the boquet in her hands,
and said dreamily:
"Read the emblems, Constance
you who are a priestess in Flo
ra's beautiful temple
She quickly looked them over.
"Ah p she said, "you choose
well, Sir Botanist. Here you
have beauty in retirement, con
stancy'-that is good-and L am
not summer friend'-that is bet
ter than all. But you fatter with
your flowers, nevertheless
mot YOU" ne replied eagerly
and tenderly, and in a voice that
somehow frightend her.
She replied almost coldly-
though her heart was strangely
beating, and warm, unusual
color was in her face: "My best
friends tell you, doctor, that [ am
ugly and commonplace. Believe
them, l beg you, and do not let
your Imagination invest me with
any charms"
He seemed all at once to be car
ried away ty his passion. He
leaned over and replied warmly:
Il say you are beautiful Constance
Owen But he said no more.
The face of Constance was a
study; the flush that had before
crimsoned her cheeks died, and
she became CHASTITY pale.
Her fingers, which had clasped
the flowers, slowly opened and
they dropped to the ground at her
feet. All at once the vision of the
dead woman seemed TO present
itself to her mind, and the trust
she was violating struck cold
to her heart. Was this the "For-
ever" she had spoken? She stag
gered and would have fallen; the
arms of DR.. Paulding were about
her, but she waved him away in
a moment with such a piteous,
despairing gesture that he obeyed
her without a word. She only
| ndu Strength enough 10 lalter:
"Go-and remember Edith"-
and she staggered back towards
the house, leaving him standing
there, bent and trembling
She did not know how she
reached her own room; the strong
woman had learned at the same
moment she loved, that she must
sacrifice and renounce.
She stood for hours white and
motionlesss, looking out at the
sunset and the gathering gloom CT
evening, with wild thoughts chas-
ing themselves through her brain,
and a dumb, aching pain in her
heart; even hope trailing in the
dust, like those sweet flowers he