Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1882-04-22

ing, to find her indeed very i'll
The doctors say a trip to Mention i
all that can save her, and so he gOe
without seeing his little .fdacee
To be sure lie writes her loving
goodbye. Still she is sorely disap
pointed.
At the time of Arthur Thorne's
first coming to the farmhouse, there
were several of the neighboring far
mers' sons who paid Jessie great
deal of attention. OF course she re.
ceived them graciously enough
still she had never cared particular
ly for any. There was one, an eX-
ceedingiy well-to-do young farmer,
who had loved Jessie all his life.
He worked a very fine farm, and
Mr.. Gray and his wife wanted Jes-
sic to marry him still when he
proposed and was refused, they
thought too much of their daugh-
ter's happiness to urge the matter.
He felt very bitter about it, and Ar
thur Thorne's coming only added
fuel to the flame, especially when
he saw how much the latter and
Jessie were together.
He always brings the letters from
the post office to Mr.. Gray's, so
when letters come from Arthur
Thorne it is a very easy matter to
keep them. At first Jessie thinks
Mrs. ThOrne's illness prevents Ar
thurs writing; but as the weeks
wear on, she begins to grow heart
sick. Once or twice the farmer and
his wife say it is strange they never
hear from Arthur, but finally they
cease thinking of him. Not so with
poor little Jessie; each week finds
her longing more and more for some
word that will tell her she is re-
membered and loved.
But time passes on; autumn,
winter and spring come and go, and
it is once more beautiful June.
Jessie is again sitting in the garden;
but now there is no song upon her
lips, and there is sadness in her
beautiful eyes that never used to be
there. Finally the door of the farm
house opens, and kind, motherly
Mrs. Gray comes out. There is an
anxious look on her face as she sees
her daughter. A few weeks before,
on being questioned, Jessie told her
mother about her engagement to Ar
thur, and of his strange silence during
the month of his absence. The kind
mother said nothing to reproach
her, she pitied her too much for
that.
"Jessie, dear" sheA says, as she
reaches her, why don't you go for
IA row, or walk, or something? /
hate 10 see you sitting quietly
thinking all the time. Go, darling,
find some amusement see some of
the young people, and forget about
Arthur ThOrne, for he is not worth
one of your pure thoughts"
sDon't mother dear! l. can't bear
to hear you speak bitterly of Ar
thur. Remember love him, and
cannot, will not, believe anything
against him."
Jessie's impetuosity brings the
color to her face but as it recedes,
leaving it so white, its delicacy is
very perceptible. She is very frag-
lie these days so different from the
rosy checked little beauty of last
summer.
81 don't understand how you can
believe in his love after a years
silence" "says Mrs. Gray; but regrets
it instantly, as she notices the pain
ed expression on her daughters sad
face.
"I will not try to explain, but i
have perfect faith in him, if | wait
for years or for ever"
Saying this Jessie leaves the seat
and walks towards the lake. Ar
irving there, and feeling tired after
the exertion of walking, she lies
down under the trees, where she
soon falls asleep. An hour has
passed away, when The perfect still
ness is disturbed by step, and Ar
.hur Thorne comes in view. He is
sun-burned, and the careless look
hitherto seen on his face is gone.
AS he looks down at Jessie, looking
so pure and sweet before him, some
thing shakes his strong young
frame. Whose treachery is it that
has made the changes in that bright
sweet face? He has just come from
the house, where everything has
been explained on both sides how
he has written continually without
receiving a word in reply, and that
his mothers illness had kept him
at her side until death released
him, after nearly a year elapsing.
He had then hurried to Jessie, to
have everything explained.
AS he looks on her, great long
ing to take her in his arms almost
oVermasters him; when Jessie,
moving in her sleep, murmurs ~
knew you would come, Arthur, in
spite of your never writing"
In an instant she is in his arms,
and, awakening, looks once more
on his loved face.
"Arthur!" is all she says, and
then quietly faints away.
He carries her to the house, and
she is laid in her bed, from which
she does not rise for six weeks.
Brain fever confines her, and from
her wild rawlings they learn of the
fearful suffering she endured so pa
tiently. Finally consciousness and
strength return, and she is carried
down stairs, for the first time, just
a year from the day she met Arthur
Thorne.
During their conversation it
dawned upon Jessie that William
Black must be responsible for all
her suffering but she is SO happy
now that she insists that nothing
shall be done to him.
Everything is explained now,
dear Arthur, and his conscience
must reproach him more bitterly
than ever we could dop And Jes-
sic looks at him pleadingly.
"Of course you will have your
own way, my darling and if the
color will only return to these dear
little white cheeks, | will forgive
him." answers Arthur, tenderly
kissing the cheeks in question un-
til there is good deal of color in
them.
In a few weeks Jessie's health is
fully recovered, and then there is
quiet wedding in the little parish
church. The sun never shone on
lovelier bride than Jessie Gray
makes as she stands at the altar in
her simple white dress and veil,
and gives herself into Arthur
Thorne's keeping forever.
ave will have elegance after
wards" Arthur says, as he insists
on her simple dress. 81 want you
to come to me as / found you-a
sweet little wayside flower"
Given up by Doctors.