Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-07-14
THE OLD WILL.

Little Blossom, you make it so hard
for me to say goodbye to You.
''When?"
The innocent, surprised, inquiring
face-renunciation was indeed, difficult
for John Burrows. He touched Il DIM
pie in her cheek, and then curl of her
hair, as he might have touched flowers
on grave, perhaps.
She shook back the silky npples I'M
patiently.
''When, John?"
He looked at her for moment with
out smile, pretty rs she was.
''Nelly, sit down here for moment,
They sat down on the pretty crimson
couch before the fire. Seeing trouble in
his face, she put her hand in his, and he
smoothed out the little rose-leaf member
upon his broad palm, more than ever
confident. as he looked at it, that he was
right.
"Nelly, you know love you"
eyes" with a blush, for he had never
said it before.
"And / am very sorry"
"Why," after pause of bewilder-
ment.
Because you are delicate little flow
er, needing care and nursing to keep
your bloom bright and | am going to
hard, rough life, among privations, fever,
and malaria, which will try even my
powerful constitution, and where you
must not go"
"You are going to the Far West ?"
Eyes. NV mother must have home
in her old age. She Is strong now, but
time is telling on her. You know all that
she has been to me?"
eyes; she has been q good mother.
But YOU shall take me too, John.
She woa her way into his arms against
his will.
"You will take me, too?"
"No. Did l not tell you that you
made it so hard for me to say goodbye
to you?"
"John, what could I do without you ?"
"He took the little, caressing hand
down from his face.
Don't make me weak, Nelly. Do
you think that it is nothing to me to
leave my little violet-the only woman L
ever loved-for a hard, cold life and un-
ceasing toll l Icannot marry for ten years,
Nelly"
"And then I shall be thirty years old. ="
eyes, married, and with little chill
dren seeing, at last that your old lover,
John Burrows, was right"
He rose to his feet.
"JoHN !" in terror.
eyes am going, Nelly. Little one
you look so much woman now, with
your steadfast eyes-hear me / did not
foresee that you would love me-that |
should love you. You were little school
girl when saved you from drowning
last summer, and your satchel of books
foated away down the river and was lost.
I came here to see Gregory, not you.
! could not help loving you; but did not
think until tonight that you cared so
much for me, Nelly. But, child you
will forget me"
"Never
He went on.
"Nelly, shall hunger for you day
; and night, more and more, as time goes
, on and I get older, lonelier, more weary.
But shall never hope to see you again.
Now, give me your hand"
, She gave him both. He raised them
to his lips, but before she could speak
again he was gone.
Shivering violently, she went to the
fire, and stood there trying to warm her
self. She understood it all now-his
strangely elaborate arrangements for 6
trip to New York. He had known thai
he was not coming back when she haC
begged him to bring her his photograph
, from the great metropolis, but'was going
on-on-into the dim distance. This il
why he had not promised.
It was getting late-she was so cold
. she had better go to bed. She would
not go into the parlor to bid her father
and aunt, and Gregory good night 81
she crept silently up to her own room
! There the very weight of grief upon he
r lulled her to sleep.
, But when she woke, her grief sprane
Z upon her like some hidden monster who
: had lain in wait for her all night. He
, misery terrified her. Why should sht
not die? Why should she ever rise from
that bed?
But when they called her, she sprane
8 up hastily, dressed and went down, ant
3 they were too busy talking to notice tina
she did not know what she Was doing