River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1882-02-23

Dor and imprisonment.
"But man changes a good deal IN
three years, he replied, YEARLY.
1t would weary you, dear reader, and
to no purpose, were to set down here
the dreary cemmonplaces with which
these two tried to beguile the time for
over an hour. At length, worn out by
the arduous effort of trying to entertain
each other while their thoughts were so
far away, they took refuge in silence,
while the wind roared, and the rain
dashed the. window, and the dusk came
on prematurely; and Seton, looking out
on the cherries prospect, shivered as
with the cold. Then that other person
rose very quietly, and stirred the fire
into blaze, and resumed her seat on
the sofa.
'ENo, you shouldn't really" said Sc
ton, not turning round, however, though
with look of great pain on his face. 1t
is wonderful what sufferings some small,
commonplace word or action may
cause us. What vistas of possible joys
may they not open up to usl
81 suppose the carriage will soon be
back" said Alice, presently, and speak
drives so fast, too"
"Yes, and your term of imprisonment
will soon be up" rejoined Seton, rest
ing his arms upon the mantelpieee,
and examining with critical interest a
photograph before him.
"How the time passed !" said Alice,
in low voice as if speaking to herself.
Then, with sudden energy. II cannot
tell when we shall meet again. Before
we part. answer me one question. You
are looking worn and weary-are you
happy?"
Now he stood before her, and through
the dusk and the freight his eyes
flashed on her, as he said, in a low,
harsh voice
"From your lips that question is an
insult"
"Of which you need not fear the re-
petition" she rejolned promptly with
cutting Formally.
"No, it can. end like this" he went
on. ado you know, ever since you
have been here, have bitten my lips
through and through to keep them from
speaking of the past? This meeting
was not of your seeking, and it seems
to me unmanly to make advantage of
this opportunity
"We are sometimes so Mistaken"
she said, hurriedly, but her words were
hardly audible, and he continued
"Alice, you have treated me very i'll.
On that day, now three years ago, when
| gave you my love, and believed in
yours, was frank with you. / told
you how wild and irregular my life had
been. and how full of faults l was.
You reclaimed me-you transformed
my days-you made life, all at once,
pure and fair; and then because some
thorn in my love hurt you, you threw
it all away and left me to parish miser.
ably" She would have interrupted
him, but he silenced her with gesture,
and went on: "And now when we meet,
after three year, you ask me if am
happy. III loved you once, shall
love you forever. Do | look happy 2"
81 think there were faults ON both
sides" Ishe said quietly.
Yes, perhaps there WERE" he re-
piled; ''but l vas reading your last
letter over only to-day. Oh, how ter
ribly bitter it was p
"And have you forgotten your an
swer to that letter." she said passion
ately, her voice quivering and her
breast heaving.
81 don't it word for word"
he returned, quickly; " know it was
written on the impulse of the moment"
"But have it by heart" Then, very
slowly: You said if your love, in its
heart and strength, was a little exact
ing, mine was cold and tideless; in
fact, no love, only cold, sluggish af-
lection. You almost thought | was
right, and that we could not be happy.
I am naturally proud she went on;
"but woman with less pride than /
could not have acted differently. Only
one course was left to me-to be
silent"
"Well-it is all over now; wesshall
probably never meet again"
"You won't take my friendship,
then ?"
mo, thank you; you are very gen.
erous. but | do not want that gift"
He drew himself YEARLY into a chair,
and for time there was a complete
silence. Hope is 50 subtle, so iatangi-
BILE, that we are only aware of its exist
ence when it has ceased to be. Arthur
Seton looked upon himself as man
quite without hope. 1t seemed to him
that his life could hardly be more DESC
late than it was, yet who shall say what
feeling, of which he was not directly
conscious, may have sustained him
during the last three years. Now
everything seemed gone-there was
nothing left for him but death.
Presently carriage wheels came
down the road; carriage lamps flashed
through the dusk, and grew stationary
opposite the window. Mr.. Hunter
hustled in and announced, in tone of
triumph, that the carriage had come
for the young lady, and had done the
distance wonderfully quick. Then the
door shut, and they were alone togeth-
er again.
Softly and distinctly Seaton heard
her say his name, arthur" but he
did not move. 1t seemed to him that
he would keep back all his love, clinch
fast his heart till she was gone, and
then die swiftly of the pain.
arthur, | am waiting dear. Won't
you come? Are you not going to for
give me?"
Now he rose and CROPPED his way to-
ward her like blind man. She stretch
ed out her hand and drew him toward
her. Then he bent down, she raised
her face, and the hearts and lips so
long disunited came together in long,
passionate kiss. He knelt down by her.
her head sank upon his shoulder, and
for several minutes they remained
thus, lost in loves profound peace and
| mystery. And the corks continued to
pop, and the wagoners on their way to
London tramped in and out of the bar
and good nights were exchanged be-
tween customers and landlord, and as
Arthur folded Alice's mantle around
her, she said shyly:
"You are coming back with me to
see mamma, are you not2"
MAY -" he answered, great joy evil
dent in his face and voice.
So the bedroom which Mrs. Hunter
had been preparing all the afternoon
and of which she was not little proud
remained unoccupied; but the pay
ment was lavish, and the days labor
was not regretted.
Oh that never-to-be-forgotten ride
to Chisclhurst through the wild, windy
evening! And the rain ceased, and
strange voices were abroad in the wind
singing lubilantly over love rerisen and
redeeminc. And the clouds drifted