Kimball enterprise. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1883, 1883-05-11
least Mr.. Sampson pays it for me-"

cruel torment than the tone of voice
ana TORN OF words wherein he spoke,
Gratitude and tender regard and playful
we're all expressed there, and
| yet the tears Weiled up in the girls
heart as she listened, and, but they
were held resolutely back, would have
dlmmed the eyes that regarded their
1dol through the fast gathering gloom.
She was silent, fearing to trust her
voice: and Jack, too, held his peace for
q little time.
You were always my confident in
the old time, Amy" he said, presently.
"A man must have somebody to tell his
secrets to at least. 1 must and should
like to tell you a little story"
She waited. more than ever afraid to
speak, n he went on taking her silence
for consent.
You have heard ofMr ..Farnaby, the
authoress? A friend Of hers took me to
one OF her evening receptions and in.
troduced me, and she was kind enough
to give me a standing invitation for the
season. 1t was the IL house that was
open to me in Tendon, and | cannot tell
you how dear those evenings we're to me.
and how they stood out from the rest OF
the dreary week. One night I found
myselfseated nextto a younglady whom
had not seen before. She struck me
particularly by reason of the strong like
ness l saw, or fancied l saw, in her to
you. | spoke to her on some common
place topic, and we fell into a CONVEX
sation that lasted the whole evening,
until she went away in the OF
an elderly lady, who seemed to be her
chaperon, or guardian, or companion,
whatever the phrase is. She was there
the next night and every night after,
and we were together a good deal. 1 as
sure you honestly, Amy, that until the
naby's receptions ceased for the year, |
had no notion of my rea! feelings toward
the girl. But it struck me suddenly, as
was dressing for the last Of the even
lngs, that | was in love with her. |
went to her house with the intention OF
doing something decisive-what, I did
not know myself. She did not come.
waited thes.whole evening, waiting for
her appearance long after all reasonable
chance had passed, and at last went
home feeling as | had never felt before.
! could not work or sleep for thinking OF
her.
NEARLY four months passed before l
saw her again. l was walking in the Re.
gents Park late one afternoon last De-
cember. There was half-frozen snow on
the ground and more in the sky waiting
to fall. l was thinking about her, and I
felt dull and miserable. / sat down up
on a bench and lit my pine, and tried to
drive her out of my mind by thinking of
a story | was writing at the time. Butt
could think of nothing but her. The
night was closing in, and a parkkeeper
came and told me that the gates would
soon be closed and | must go. AS l rose
to obey a woman's figure huttered by me.
The light was dim under the tire S, and
she passed quickly at some distance.
But | knew her. 1t was the, she girl I
had lost.
81 could not tell you, Amy, how the
story she told moved me-. 1t is a COM
monplace story enough, 1 suppose. Her
aunt, the lazy who accompanied her to
Mrs .,,Farnaby's, had lost the income ON
which they lived by a piece of heartless
that cannot conceive how the law of
any country could countenance it. But
legal redress was impossible according to
the highest opinions, and they were
ruined. They had never been rich, but
they had had enough for comfort, and
now they were reduced to complete
poverty, and We're snbsisting as best they
could. A far away relative had discover
ed 1hem-a successful man of business
with whom they had never any COM
munication for many years. He had Of
fered them assistance, and for some
time their burden had been greatly
hghtcneL by his aid, though they still
worked for themselves and preserved
their Independence as much as the
could. Their relatives help had
been continued for some time,
they suspccting Nc Interior mo-
tive, when one day he proposed
to the aunt for the hand of the cirl. The
aunt made no definite reply, merely
promising to use her influence on his
behalf. The offer was refused, I be-
lieve, Amy, for my sake-and he with
drew his assistance and left them to
fight their way as best they could. She
told me all this quietly and calmly as
We walked together. 1 can tell you
what she said, but what actor could af-
ford to initiate the calm, despalring re-
signation of her voice and manner? 1
told her that if she would put her des-
tiny into my hands she would never
know a want I could supply. I told her
that l loved her, and had loved her
since the first moment | had seen her.
| pleaded hard-all in vain. Her place,
she said, was with her aunt, to whom
she owed everything, and she would new
er consent to- cripple me by adding the
burden of their poverty to my own. l
argued AGAINST her resolutions-all in
vain. She was adamant. She said
frankly and freely that she returned my
affection, but she begged me to believe
that any renewal of my proposal would
only increase her trials. I longed to Of
fer her assistance, but [ dared not to do
it, and she left me begging me to make
no attempt to follow her. For days after
l haunted the spot on which we parted,
and at last I saw her. She told me she
had secured an engagement as compan-
ion to a maiden lady, and that she left
London next day. I renewed my
pleadings-still in vain. l asked for q
souvenir, some little trjfe by which to
remember her, and she gave me a pho
tograph. | have never seer her SINCE"
There was silence for a moment, bro
ken only by the twitter of the leaves in
her garden without.
"a woman worth loving" said Amy
when she could trust her voice.
He heard the words, and knew moth
ing but what they told him. Filled with
his own thoughts, he had not to read the
heart of the woman who spoke-and
and speech is surely in many WAYS the
weakest dialect of human language.
Have you the photograph with you?"
she asked, presently.
He took it from his pocket and gave it
INTO her hand, which trembled a little
as she took it. She walked to the win.