Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1881-06-23
and then sat still and tried to realize

1t ali
Good bye ran the last words.
"Heaven bless you and make you hap"
py Ny last wish is that we may
never meet again. Surely the world
is wide enough for us two !"
Tears of bitter shame and sorrow
coursed down my cheeks as | read
and re-read Harold s letter, and saw
too late the game Of cross-prrposes we
hal been playing.
"Captain Warner, the officer in the
Cavalry regiment "-Charlie's regi
ment What did it mean?
Again and agtin l read those last
words before | could fully understand
it alI-those last words so full of min
gled sorrow and reproach.
Il ara going away" he wrote
"away to the other side Of the world
and in all human probability shall
never set foot on British soil again. 1t
was accidentally that | heard Of your
engagement to Captain Warner. Nora,
Think you it is such light thing to
wreck mans happlness-to blight his
whole life? Does not your couscierce
upbraid you that, while wearing one
mans likeness and being engaged to
him, you can lightly break that vow
and mreservedly give your heart to
another Who he is know not; but,
from the bottom of my heart, pity
him. Oh, Nora, YOU can never know
how loved you, my first and last love
how blindly and fully l believed
and trusted in youl Now that all is
over, all proved false, feel as if |
could never have faith in man, woman
OF child again"
Hour after hour passed unneeded
and yet each minute was bearing ham
farther and farther away over the wide
blue sea, away to another country,
thinking | had been false, when all
The time my heart was breaking for
love Of him. My engagement to Cap
tain Warner-what was il a fabrl,
cation from beginning to end Oh,
why did not Harold ask HE? One word
would have explained ALL
Again and again did Helen Yiteous-
ly ihplore me to Jet her in; but not
even my own sister could see me in
the first hours of my sorrow After
wards the whole world might come;
but for one day must be alone to
battle with my grief and remorse, and
weep in solitude over the grave Of my
dead hopes. When the darkness came,
| knelt down and prayed that | might
one day meet Harold and tell him how
he had miSjudged me.
| never told Tom and Helen the
facts; | buried my sorrow in my heart
and hoped that time might make all
plain. Harold told no one-not even
his mother-whlther he was going; ard
weeks heightened into months, aud
months into years, yet no tidlng5 came,
till at last Harold Broughtons name
ceased to be mentioned.
Make our house your home, said
Tom and Helen; and so lived on, as
people will live, in spite Of all sorrow
and disappointment.
Five years have passed, and, at the
age Of twenty three, / am living on
with the vague hope that has never
quite lied-the hope that | shall see
Harold before | die. Charlie came
home Yesterday. He is the same dear
attectonate brother as Of old; and,
alone with him, | tod him everything
just as it happened, how | had loved
and lost Kissed me tenderly, he soft
ly quoted the words Of the poet
'Ts better to have loved and lost
Than never to have l3ved at all.
Ny heart grows weary and my hope
faint as the days glide by, with never
a word from Harold, who perhaps may
be in lonely grave in some far-otl
land; yet but for that hope | think |
should long ago have been sleeping in
the quiet churchyard.
i: x Il X
1t is glorious evening in the month
of May; there are hustle and confusion
on the pier at Kingstown. The even
ing sun is shining on the range of blue
mountains and making the deep blue
|