The National tribune., 1882-05-20

AGAINST Adams drab coat. l supposed Ws
led in The right path when l put my had
in Friend Motifs, and said:
" If thee wants me / am thine
Thank the Lord, calculated Adam, ct
Us pray
Thee is Il good daughter" said fatlr,
huoyantly; thee1l make good wife"
81 If thee chooses to lie a fool, said brothr
John, doggedly, I've nothing to say. If
thee would only look straight before ty
nose, thee'd sec a man worth twenty Adm
Mo.ts'
Il suppose thee means thyself, John"
Father and Adam had long talks abat
my property which had been accumuIatlg
in bank ever since my mothers death. IS
Adam was to be 4 merchant, father thouat
it best for him to take my money and ct
himself up in business l had no objectin
to make.
When father and Adam discussed thee
matters, I stole off by myself I loved %
/ keep ont Of the way on the slightest exCue
Adam had always been hard to entertap,
and now conversation with him was wlI
| nigh impossible. We sat in the parIor "
| the half hour without speaking Only whn
we talked about the war, then he was eb-
! quent, and l listened with pride. He sad
he must leave me at the call of his county,
! and l replied:
| Adam, I'll never stand in thy way"
| One day Miriam Grant gave party. 1t
was then that our engagement becameknow
though what little bird whispered it IneRr
knew, unless it was Cousin Sophia.
DR.. Hathaway was the first to congratl-
late me. The guests were all out of dooy,
and Friend Edward and l walked along o.
gether toward the summer-house in the ga-
den. | suggested that it was good time br
the story he had promised to tell. He
seemed to have forgotten the promise.
"What did thee mean that night whn
thee told ME to be true to myself, Friend Ed
ward? Thee didn't suspect what was on ny
mind ?"
9 hope you pondered well my word"
replied Friend Edward, without noticing ny
question. "You have been true to yourself?
You are happy?"
90 very happy, indeed. Thee has no ida
how pleased father isl"
II suppose so. And you are pleased too,
Eve? Forgive me for asking: but you have
no dOubts?"
While he spoke he never looked at me,
but straight at the sky.
Doubts" said l, affecting confident
tone; mot one"
Then am satisiied,S replied Friend FL
ward, sOlemnly; but his face was so pale
that it startled me, and there was look n
1t that thrilled my heart strangely. L was
never in my life less sure of anything thar
was Just then Of my love for Adam Mott!
We had uncOnsciously strayed to some
distance, and on our return saw that Adam
was displeased. As we walked home he I'M
dertook TO chide me for being too triAing in
my manners. His words were very gentle,
but they reused me to anger.
Adam Mott" said /, thee may as well
know first as last that I am not saint.
Thee need not attempt to control
shalsnever ask thy leave to talk with aat.
friend. Moreover, while was walkin laa
the doctor what was thee dOing?"
Reading poetry with Miriam, for 81
told me so.
Adam hastened to apologize, and
soothe me with tender words; but ali ne
said only irritated me; his affection repelled
me more than his anger
Another week passed. I was growing |
wretched. Father thought my sobriety
very cOmmendable, and Adam liked me all |
the better for it.
He and father still talked Of trade; but I |
fancied father was not as well satisfied as at |
first with Adams business capacity he told |
me he thought the young man was too fond |
of speculation; he didn't know but he took
after the Motifs"
Adam was going home to Philadelphia to |
enlist with the young men of his own city. |
Why didn't he start? When he was fairly |
gone, at last, | drew sigh of relief. 1t was
downright wicked of me, but | could not |
help it!
40 Cousin Sophia" said I, one day, in an |
irrcpressible burst of confidence a begin to
be afraid 1 don't love Adam as well as I
ought to-"
"Well, DEAR" replied my experienced .
cousin, sit viii be very different after you
are married"
Reader, does thee perceive the sophistry of
her views?
Friend Edward had grown estranged. I
could not but observe it with pain. One
evening he came to say goodbye. He was
going into the army as surgeon. Friend
Edwardi All, this struck home! l tried to
conceal my distress. had begun before this
to suspect the true state of my heart, and
the bitter consciousness made me wary.
Words l had no right to speak rose to my
tongue; emotions had no right to feel were
throbbing at my heart; tears which would
not have started if Adam had been dying,
gushed up and choked me while Edward
held my hand to say goodbye.
So many years as | had known him Such
pleasant talks as we had had together! How
could l spare him? Perhaps he might not
live to come back! Never had knownsuch
a friend before, never should l find such an
other 1t was dreadful that he was going,
and dared not tell him | was sorry.
"Not one word for me? 2" said he, sadly.
" Only say God speed my friend ~
My lips moved. He must have seen |
could not speak. / tore my hands from his
and rushed out of the room; that was Our