The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1883-10-13

J she came in contact.
|, She could not help loving. 1t vas
her instinct, and she obeyed il. The
/. aged gentlewomen of the house, full OF
! bye.gone years, aud bitterness for the
present, felt their gall turned TO honey
as she ministered to their wants; and the
laborer ceased to think OF the daily toll
which hungry mouths caused him, il
Bessie Lee came but near TO warm him
into better manhood.
This was her instinct, her better ma.
ture. She could not help doing good
but books had taught her other things.
and beyond all that she had conceived
an idea of love from the frothy dreams
of romancers.
Life is not made OF romance, Bessie
had woven her future of roses and sun
shine.
Thus much for her character. Her
form and face were perfect. She was
the daughter of one of the inhabitants OF
the refuge.
By her side stood tall, grave man OF
some seven or eigb, and-twenty, speak
ing In low, earnest voice upon some
theme to which the girl seemed to pay
but petulant attention.
Life has romance enough in il for all
OF US, dear Bessie" he said, 'if we but
gild each NOR ling with the sunshine of
an honest endeavor."
II know--I know, dear," she replied
"but life cannot be all bread aud cheese,
and solemn word and solemn mode Oh,
Ralph! I should die if couldn't have
excitement, and you have drawn such
gloomy picture
els it gloomy, then. dear, to be the
associate and helpmate of one who, God
being his help. honestly endeavors to do
his duty. 1 cannot paint the life of a
poor London doctor to you in glow ng
colors, Bessie. If did l would be un-
true to you myself"
"You are trying me very hard, Ralph, 4"
she said, turning her face hastily, that
lie might not see the angry tear which
rose to her eyes.
He looked at her wistfully and sadly,
slightly releasing the pressure lie had
placed upon her tiny hand.
After all, he thought, was this dainty
petulant village maid the one to buffet
the billows of life's great ocean.
Could he ever make the delicate child
understand him. and be to him in all that
second self, lacking which in the great
business of life no man is perfect.
Was 1t fair. was it honest, to her or to
him 10 tear up this primrose and kill it
with the deadly town air2
Hs could not say. His heart would
only moan back in answer to reason-sI
love her-I love herr
Yet, as stern stuff was in the man, he
could not show 1t to her save in his earn.
estness and manhood.
Ralph Braybrook's heart had no room
for jealousy. but numb pain tugged at
his heart-strings when he saw her turn
away from his society TO mix with some
nimble-tongued youth. when, as if the
load OF his sombre shadow being taken
OIL her, she could laugh with the rest.
He could have cried then in very bitter
ness, "Pray thee, weep, May Lillian" for
this constant ''gaiety without eclipse;'
but be was not man to wear his heart
on his sleeve, aud many time had be
turned away murmurinR, "Poor child,
she is 30 young! SO young"
He had known her from childhood
with that brotherly intimacy SO danger
GUS for O man. so fatal to woman's
love.
She had for years past regarded Ralph
in the light OF her protector, who would
in process of time become her husband.
He was her mothers friend, almostthe
only being whom she could lean on in
the world; and SO. when in his grave.
qniet way Ralph had proposed, 1t hardly
cost her Autter of the heart to say
Eyes" and the rich blood scarce Grim.
soned her bright young face.
She had-ah! fatal words-''grown SO
used TO him."
He came down to the quiet village to
see them but ra-ely, for it was q poor,
crowded neighborhood where he had his
practice. aud the poor are exaoting; but
he always talked hopefully and cheerful
ly in his own grave way of the little
home to which he hoped to bring his
bride.
Vi late he had noticed a strange apathy
about her which alarmed him even more
than her childish petulnuce, and it was
his trying to seek the cause of it which
led to the conversation above.
Trying you hardv' he said, ''I do not
understand. Bessie, dear. try to uu-
derstand You. but cannot"
'No; it is that you cannot" she said,
''and some msn are like that, suppose,
playing with womens feelings as they
would with a little baby. hurting it to
death nearly with their unconscious
brute -plaYfulness.
"You don't understand me-you never
will understand me, and it is better that
you should cease trying"
Had some unseen hand plunged q
dagger into his bosom he could not have
turned so deadly pale.
''Bessie! Bessie" he moaned, 'don't
say that
The cry was the short, quick cry Of
agony, and she turned her averted head
to him. and would have sprung to his
arms, but ere she could frame an excuse
for her words, his pride leaped to relieve
his bitter anguish.
He drew himself up coldly. while drops
OF ice-cold Perspiration stood upon h 8
forehead.