Connecticut western news., 1881-12-07

fault that she did not succeed. I wanted Grace quite to myself, as I had had her all my life; and because could not so have her, was touchy and disagree able; and soon Miss Stanhope let me see clearly enough that she returned my indifference. All the same, she was Grace's guest, and Grace could not leave her to come to me as of old.
 When went there, I could not see my darling alone, and I grew to think my lot very hard. was an imaginative girl, and took refuge in melancholy poetry, and even dropped into rhymes myself, in which I bewailed my cruel fate, and accused my friend of stony hearted ingratitude and indifference.
 Grace always had an uncomfortable amount of common sense; and when, one day, I left the most melancholy of these rhymed lamentations in her desk at school, I saw her smile as she read it; smile full of honest fun, which I magnified into scorn and ridicule. My vanity was as sorely wounded as my heart, and at once took open issue with her. I accused her of preferring her cousin. told her grandiloquently that she had taught me how little life- long friendship was worth.
 Shall I ever forget the incredulous and astonished look in her eyes ? She was always gentle, though far firmer than I; and she spoke quietly and sweetly:
 Of course you don't mean anything you are saying, Garry, but do you think you ought to say such things, even in iest2"
 "I am in no mood for jesting," re- piled, with the high-mightiness of one whose fourteenth birthday was just past. Our friendship has not been jest to me, nor am the one who has thrown you aside for another P
 Her eyes grew sad in the midst oi their lingering incredulity, as if convic- tion were slowly coming to her that was in earnest.
 "Can it be possible, Carry," she said, still gently, "that you really think ] have treated you ill-that have ceased to love you-I, who have loved you all my life?"
 Her very gentleness angered me- "What is love worth," cried, ," that will make no sacrifice for it's object ] Will you leave Miss Edith Stanhopt alone, and come and pass every othel afternoon with me, as you used ?"
 With all Grace's gentleness, she wal not wanting either in self-respect or il spirit, and she answered me very frankly "No, Garry, will not leave m, cousin to spend every other afternoon alone while she is my guest and yo, ought not to like me so we'll if I would.
 suppose knew in my own soul tha
 she was right; and that very knowl
 edge made me the more determined
 Besides, my jealousy famed more fierce
 ly than ever i; and jealousy, you know
 is cruel.
 "Very well," said. "Keep Mis-
 Edith Stanhope, and wish you joy c
 her. Perhaps, when she goes away
 your ladyship will condescend to thin of me again but I may have learne
 other ways of passing my afternoons b ] that time. Good-by."
 I thought this address very whitening ; I remember. Grace half put out he hand to me, as if she would detain me [ Then she evidently thought better of il
 and turned away and joined her cousin This conversation had been held in l corner of the school-yard, and after was over, Grace and Edith walked ava together.
 I went home alone. That was 7 September. October and Novembe came and went, and still the estrangt ment between Grace and me continued We nodded to each other when we me F with distant politeness we even sai 5 good-morning if our paths crossed br t this was all.
 Sometimes I saw wistful look
 Grace's dear, dark eyes, and some wor :: ready to be spoken seemed to trembl 3 on her lips but took no notice. M jealousy was like an actual, hauntin 3 presence, which never forsook me. The first day of December, my mott CT gave me twenty dollar gold piec, ) It was the sum which for some year , had been given to each of us-Grac
 and me-on the first of December, wit , which to make our Christmas presents
 Our mothers had thought, wisely 5 that we ought to have some experienc in the use of money, and we were bot ambitious to make the most and best ( f it. Our presents for each other wer ! always grand surprise, reserved fc
 Christmas eve, but about every othe , item we consulted.
 I wondered if Grace had already re ? ceived her gold piece; and whether sh would miss me as much in plannin how to use it as I should miss hel Then the thought crossed my mind ths I should have the more for others, al of course, I should buy nothing fc
 Grace.
 |, And then came sudden, swift revu :, sion of feeling. Not buy anything fc , Grace, who had been my hearts deligt ! all my life, ever since that first da
 when she put out her baby hand an 1. said, "How 'oo do, Cahwy9 glad e
 come."
 I tried to shut my heart against he f image. l said to myself that no on , would deny it was hard, that when W . had been all in all to each other for a
 those years, another person shoul como and swallow up Grace altogethe1 . But conscience lifted up her voice an . reminded me that it was not Grace