Western sentinel. [volume] (Winston [i.e. Winston-Salem], N.C.) 1856-1886, 1882-02-09
TRUE THROUGH YEARS.
BY MARGARET BLOUNT.

Sister Elsie will you be so very
good as to let me wear your topaz
and diamond cross, Tomorrow
evening? All Linden Hill will be
at the reception, to meet Lionel
Chetwynd, and l want to look my
best, of course. Who knows but
that l may be the fortunate one to
win HING said the young beauty,
laughinglv, as she rified her sisters
Jewel casket, and tried the effect of
the cross against her morning dress
of navy blue flannel.
who knows, indced!' said Elsie
Glare, pausing over her sewing, to
look at the young sister, to whom
she had been as a mother for the
past fifteen years.
When Lionel Chetwynd had left
Linden Hill, poor, young and hope-
tul, to seek his fortune,' Edith
Glare had just been placed, by her
dying mother, an infant, in her sis
ter's arms.
Now she was telle eff sixteen,
with the fairest and freshest OF
faces, and sunny, Joyous express
sion, that accorded well with
her deep blue eyes and curling, gol-
den hair.
'What am l beside her?' though,
Elsie, half sadly, half bitterly, as
she glazed at the reflection Of hei
own thoughtful face in the mirror
sbeside that radiantly-fresh lowell
ness, and that youthful, slender
gracee How can | blame Lione
if be leaves me for her? 1t is fool
| ish, no doubt, for me to remember
and rely upon what he said in those
daye, and if / was wise | shoult
not go to this party, only, perhaps
to receive an Indifferent welcome
from him, Yet am [ not bound t,
think him true until find hin
false2 And am l to be jealous
of Z iith? Never! If he shoult
learn to le7e her, l will be th'
first to wish him success. And M
one shall ever dream how | hav,
thought Of him, and prayed 70
him, and hoped for his return, dur
ing ali these weary fifteen years.
While she mused, Edith Wa
! figuring away before the glass
Now she exclaimed, caressingly:
'Yon are making up your minc
to let me wear it, ARE yen not
You never nse it yourself, yol
know
Il never have worn it, Edith
since you were a baby. 1t was Civ
en- to me then. 1t was a keepsak,
from a dear friend. ii think
would like to wear it myself, m,
dear, tomorrow night
TO the reception? Are you real
, ly going there, Elsie?' said Edith
in tone of genuine surprise.
DO you think me too old 70
!; such gaities?' asked Elsie, smiling
But there was wounded feelin!
in her tone, and Edith was quick t.
detect it.
|; Not too old, by any means. To
wise we will say, Elsie. But l an
very glad you are to be there t
see the strife Of the candidates fo
the notice of the wealthy Lione
Chetwynd.'
Let me beg that you will nc
i join in it, Edith said her sister sc
!, riously. 'There is nothing 30 in
delicate, SO unwomanly.'
4 know; but, unfortunately, it
: literal fact,' said Edith, waltzin
out of the room.
y On the next evening tho mag
nifcently furnished rooms of Mr.
Hardenburg, on Linden avenu
D were filled to overhowing with tt
beauty and the fashion of IL
neighborhood.
Conspicuous among the thror
d. lowered the tall form of the hel
Of the evening. Fifteen years b,
fore, when he left the village, b
n third cousin, Mrs. Hardcnburg, HI
! not SO far remembered his existen
! as to wish him good-by. But ci
q cumstances alter cases. The hsa,
I purse was, in this case the scircur
| stance that had insursd the wa
u derer this cordial Welcome at +