The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1881-03-19

was going to America for the first time,
and, indeed, was for the first time at sea.
"You will be seasick almost certainly,
them" l said. care you prepared for
that ?"
ooh, yes" she answered. at have
hoped that perhaps [ might not be, but
am prepared for anything"
There was patient resolution in her
tones that piqued my curiosity, espe-
cially as she presently informed me she
was all alone and going simply under the
captains care. She was full of Joy at
meeting some one who spoke her Ian
/ guage, and constantly intermingled with
her talk little eiaculatory expressions of
thanks, which seemed to have no
application beside the general one
of my knowing Spanish.
| When the bell sounded for dinner,
took her down. My arm, which was
rather timidly offered, being promptly
and gratefully accepted. After that I
used to seek her always before meals
and take her in with me, and once, when
something detained me and / was a little
late, l found her waiting for me. I think
thepeople of the vessel though that we
were companions from the start, and some
,ne alluded to her once as my daughter,
Ind although L hastily corrected this, I
willingly let it be, supposed that she was
travelling under my care. In the sim
plest and most natural fashion she
learned to defer to me and lean on my
decisions, and, by-and-bye, to confde in
me.
It was one evening that we had been
sitting together long time, idly talking
about the weather and the ship, and
wondering how long we should have it
SO fair, when she turned to me, in her
soft Spanish speech, that loses so meal
culably by translation, and said
Il want you to tell me about your
people and your home"
felt as if her little, soft, plump hand
had dealt blow upon my bare heart;
but l answered, simply:
I have no home, and my people are
all dead or gone from me-that is, nv
parents and sisters and brothers, for [
never had wife or child, which is
what you meant, perhaps"
Eyes; I meant that. It is so sad. I
thought, perhaps, you might have a
daughter Ike me, and that made You so
kind"
"No, 1 have no daughter" I said
slowly; "though am, in truth, old
enough to be your father"
"And you have never loved any one
never wanted to be married to some one
who was good and beautiful and kind :?
How strange!"
These questions were scarcely marked
by any lnterrogative accent She seemed
to be merely stating them as facts, with
a gentle reluctance. But, though she
expected no answer from me, / was ire
sistibly prompted to confession.
eyes, Lola" I said, 81 knew some
one like that once, and I loved her. But
it was long ago, and we were parted"
"Oh, why did you part % she said,
passionately. "Why did you suffer any,
thing to part you? Was she not willing
to give up all, to leave home and friends
and country and everything to follow
love, as l have done ?"
Urged on by deep excitement, she
had revealed her secret, and half feared
she would repent and try to retract it.
but she did not. She seemed either
to be unconscious that anything had been
dlvulged, OF unconscious of the fact
that had not known it all the time.
"You do well,'' said, fervently. cit
is worth the sacrifice. God grant you
do not repent it."
81 have no fear" she said, confidently.
''Fear could not live in my heart, which
holds perfect love-"
Then, so simply and naturally, she
told me her story. She had become en-
gagged to young American sent out to
Spain as agent for some New York bust
ness firm, and he had gone home few
months ago, expecting to return; but
his superiors had made other arrange
ments, and he had written that although
he would be stationary in New York
thereafter, he was coming back to marry
her and bring her to her home in the
new world. At the time set for his ar
rival, however, he had sent letter in
stead, saying an attack of illness pre-
vented his coming, but he was now con-
valescent, though the physicians said he
must not take the voyage for some time.
"When got that letter." said Lola,
az could do nothing but cry and fret for
the first two or three days. I did not eat
or sleep, and my aunt, whom I lived
with, said I would die, and was very
hard and cross. YVES utterly wretched,
until one night as lay thinking it all
over I resolved that I would go to him.
He had once, Enthusiastically, suggested
it, saying it would save so much expense.
and he is not at all we'll off but it had
frightened me SO that he gave it up, say.
ing he would spend all he had, sooner
than give me the anxiety and trouble OF
such voyage. But now-now that he
was i'll and alone-I could think nc
longer of my dread ; indeed, it was gone,
and all thought of was to go to him,
and comfort and nurse and take care OF
him. So got my aunt's consent, though
she would not give it at first, and I took
the very next steamer. And see how
easy and pleasant it has been! He need
not have been afraid for me; but, then
he could not know, and neither could I
that should find your
Her ardent tone and look, as she SAID
these last words, thrilled me strangely
It was spontaneous, affectionate out
burst that panied while it caressed me