The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1883-11-30

sailed down the river in the cool morn
ings and the moonlight nights, and John
said nothing beyond the pleasant courte-
Gus words of an intimate acquaintance.
In those days Elizabeth was often very
weary 81 must wear my mask" she
thought; che must not know how really
weak and tender | am. Once all once
But what did it bring mel Contempt.
invite a betrayer."
1t was the last day of August, and
Elizabeth was to return to England early
in September. 1t had been Il still, hot I;
exhaustive day. Fanny had a bad head
ache, John was in the city, and Elizabeth
was slowly walking her little namesalle
20 sleep in the darkening parlor. By
andby John came home, and sat down.
Elizabeth smiled family at him, and con-
tinued her monotonous walk and lullaby.
John followed her every movement.
Then the child was asleep, and she was
leaving the room.
He stood before her. all his soul in his
face. You will come back, Elizabeth
l want to speak to you"
1t was the first time he had ever called
her Elizabeth She knew what he wanted
to say, and yet she answered. almost in
a whisper, q will come back"
He was awaiting her return with the
greatest impotence. Now that he could
no longer withhold speech. he was eager
for his opportunity. He met her as she
entered and drawing her passionately
toward him, said: "Oh, Elizabeth, you
must not leave me now. | have loved
you, darling loved you and sought you,
for eleven years"
oh, John, love you, too But you
must know the truth: have loved some
one else the greater part of those eleven
! years-somc one who bascly won my
childish heart and then left me to such
hopeless misery as makes me tremble yet
to think of. | was a simple, loving,
+ romantic soul, and he thought it but II
holiday to take all the glory out of my
life, and all the trust out of my heart. >
care you sure of that darling?'
''Quite sure. He left me in Rome one
first of November; Ineyer saw him again,
and he never wrote me a line
Gle was killed three days afterward,
dearest, in a pass of the Apennncs
There was a long letter to you in his
pocket, but it was unfinished and had no
address. have it here Will you read
! itl"
"No, no, John; it is too late now
You knew Stephen"
He was my dearest friend. We were
! travelling together. | knew that he was
deeply in love with young English girl,
but he was very secret and jealous about
this matter. l did not care to irritate
him with questions, for he regarded the
subject as too sacred a one for common
conversation. Sooner or later | was sure
he would give me his confidence. Alas
he had only strength after he was stabbed
to whisper some words which were quite
inaudible, and explained nothing. The
brigands who had attacked us suffered
me to redeem my friends body and my
own life. and kept as a sacred trust and
relic the letter he had intended for you,
and your picture. The lovely face
gradually became dream and a hope to
me; | sought you all over Europe; have
not found you now only to lose you, have
l. Elizabeth"
She answered first by passion of tears
and sobs. 1t was Il gracious rain, and
washed away all the sense of wrong that
had imbittered so many years. 1t was
just, Also that she should first give trib-
ute to the memory of lost ana wrongcd
love. John understood the feeling, and
shared it. After all it was short sor-
row, from which was to spring for them
long years of confident joy.-La1Yer''
WteH{N