Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1882-03-09

l am a little afraid of vexing you, but still
must speak v hat is in my heart. Mr.. Ersklne
has fortune. God forbid that l would have
you marry him from mercenary motives but
with your mother depending upon you for sup
port. and yon so unable to support her, DO you
think it right to refuse the means OF placing
her, as we'll as YOURSELF out of the reach OF pow
erty for the rest of your lives %
s'He would be the last person to want me to
marry him for that reason," said Sophy.
'sNeither would I want you to, for that
reason alone But he is in every way worthy OF
your esteem. AS his wife, you would certainly
be, to say the least, happier than you are now.
And it is certainly your duty to consider your
mother to afford her all the assistance that
you can. Mr.. Erskine has already done much
for you BOTH
Eyes, and + feel it so keenly-so much more
keenly than any one can believe, " cried Sophy,
passionately cit is that which makes me
wretched; to think that we are indebted to
him for so much, and cannot repay him."
s'But it need not make you wretched; and
you can repay him amply by giving him your
heart.''
''My heart it would be worthless gift.
Ought to marry him-good, noble, generous
as he is-without love? Could I bestow on
him so poor, so dead thing as an empty
heart 20
'sMy child, it cannot be empty. You es-
TEEN him you can at least give him true
and warm regard. He will be content with
this, trusting to the future to awaken still
warmer feeling within YOU"
''It would he useless hope"
$50 you say and believe now. But even
admitting this-suppose he is willing and
eager to take you just as you are-suppose
that it would be his joy to have you always
near him, to cherish and protect you, can you
not grant him this boon, in return for his
great love, his desire to make you happy ?"
"And forget all my past 20
''Your past, dear as it is, has been brief
one. The greater part of your life is before
you. For the sake of others, don't cling to
your sorrow, and reject all chance of better
and brighter day."
Sophy sat with her head bent upon her
hands. Contrary motives were struggling at
|
voices were whispering to her to do this and
that, utterly bewildering her. After all, was
she selfish? Was she wrong to cherish mere
memory, if in 50 doing she was clouding the
existence of everybody around her? 1t was
quite true that her marriage with Mr. Ers-
kline would contribute in every sense to her
mothers welfare. And she well knew that in
this way alone could she repay him for all
his unselish kindness, his fOrbearance, his
thoughfulness, which had far outweighed mere
material benefits, numerous as these last had
been. Would it be doing him an injustice to
marry him, her feelings being as thoroughly
known to him as they were? If he Was willing
to take her as she was, why, then-perhaps-
she ought to sacrifice herself to duty. Per-
haps she would not live very long. She had
often fancied that she would die young, and
in that case nothing would matter much.
1t would be q consolation to know that she
had done what she could for the happiness OF
Others
And then Harry's image came before her,
and all the precious memories connected with
it, and her heart cried out, 81 cannot! on, l
cannot do it ~
The Captain waited good while then as
she did not speak, he came to her where she
sat, and laid his hands, as if in blessing, upon
her bowed head.
ssMv child. think this matter over in soli-
tude. l have said all that wish-all that
ought to say If have erred in saying it,
pardon me. meant it only for your good.
But don't rashly or hastily decide. Think
well, ere you condemn good true heart to
unhappness and disappointment; ere you ruin
the hopes of others, and spoil your own future
Come, you must not sit up any longer; but
tell me before you 60 that you are not angry
with me for my plain speaking"
s'I am not angry 1 could not be angry with
you," said Sophy, gently taking one OF his
brown, wrinkled hands between her own, and
kissing it. Her voice, though she spoke with
sweetness, had pathetic and dreary tone
Such trouble as hers seemed very hard to bear
When she had returned to her own room ana
found herself alone, she fell on her knees.
''Make me do right" she prayed ; guide me,
help me act for others, and put my selfishness
aside" All The thoughts and arguments which
had already assailed her seemed to return con-
tinually with new force to her mind. Her
whole night was passed in this weary conflict,
which gave her no peace.
At last her mind was made up, and fearful
lest any delay might weaken the decision which
had cost her so much, she sat down and wrote
this note to the Captain:
"MY DEAR KIND FRIEND l have been
thinking, ever since left you, over our conver-
sation, and at last it seems to me that there IS
but one thing to do. If Mr.. Ersklne still
wishes me to do as you say, knowing every
thing, will no longer refuse. You can ar
range it in any way that you like. l know
that you will not compromise me. l would
not hurt his feelings for the world. Yours,
''SopHY."
This note she carried, at daybreak, to the
Captains door, and slipped it underneath,
where he could not fail to see it then return
ed to rest her aching head upon her pillow,
and try to snatch a little repose before again
appearing in the presence of others.
She greatly dreaded meeting Mr.. Erskine.
When she went to breakfast, however, she
found that he was not there. Some one said
he had gone out for an early walk, having
taken some coffee before he went.
The following day was the one which had
been appointed for their return home, and she
busted herself during this forenoon in partial
" packing her own and her mothers trunk ;
not that there was any necessity for her doing
this so soon, but because she felt the need of