The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1884-02-09

| DrlgnteSt, the lOVlleSr creature tnat ever
my imagination had conceived of, and
before she had been in the house one
week l had learned what it was to
love!
Did Milly suspect change in me? I
could not tell. Grave and quiet always,
l saw no difference in her, except that
she grew quieter and more pale, and
that might be the effect of the close,
summer weather. hoped SO, priced
and esteemed my gentle love no less,
because l had learned to love her sister
more, and my conscience reproached
me constantly with the memory of those
simple, tender words:
81 love you dearer than my life"
To have won such love and then to
cast it away-oh, it would be villianous!
No, let passion urge me as it might, |
resolved to be true to my obligations
and my honor.
| cannot tell how my resolution
might have served if May had tempted
or encouraged me to different course;
but the girl gave me no hope-none.
Che knew that loved her, oh, was
sure of that. And I dared to think, to
fear, that she loved me; some subtle
intelligence passed between our hearts
and souls and so informed them, but by
neither of us was the knowledge con-
frmed by either look or word.
And change had come upon all
these. Something intangible-a shade
"a secret care, hidden, suspected, but
unshared there was certain relief, in
spite of the quick pang of loss and sor-
row, in the intelligence that May gave
us suddenly one morning had sue,
ceeded in obtaining position, and was
going way at once.
No one opposed it. For moment
some recollection of noble women, who
had sacrificed themselves and their own
hearts for the sake of those they loved,
flashed through my mind. thought:
"Must we two suffer to secure the
peace of one?"
But I put the ungenerous thought
aside-ashamed of it. Why should the
true and loyal heart be sacrificed to the
fekle one that could not be real and
true?
And besides, it may be that Milly
does not dream of my falsehood,
thought; for l believed had kept my
secret we'll.
Whatever she dreamt of or whatever
she knew she made no sign. Her pale
cheek whitened another shade, while
May was specking, and her eye shot
one swift glance from the girl to me but
said nothing, and it was understood
that May should go.
Through the few days that remained
before her departure lived like one in
a dream. To the last it seemed to me
that something would interpose to de-
tain her; that Milly would speak
would sacrifice herself, even at the last,
to both of us. But no-when the hour
of parting came l realized that all such
hope was vain-God forgive me In
that hour 1 almost hated Milly.
put the girl into the cars, and in
trat last moment heart spoke to heart.
J %.Good-bye, said-scarce knowing
; 60 said. t'-God bless you, love,
sns1s7pity me!'
"And help you," she whispered "to
do your duty! Oh, George, be good to
her, she is herself so good-and indeed
she loves you-dearer than her life |"
There was curious smile on Milly's
pale, sad face, and strange light in
her eyes, as I rejoined her.
"She is a good noble GIRL" she said,
more to herself than me, ri thought
and I love her-ah, wait awhile-as I
love you; you will both know, some
day, how well"
That day came all too soon. Three
weeks had passed since Mays departure,
and had quite made up my mind to
shrink no longer from the fulillment of
my pledge, so I asked Milly to fix upon
our wedding day.
Her face flushed crimson first, and
then turned pale, and look of pain
dawned in her eyes.
"Not yet," she said. "Be patient
little longer yet" and then she pressed
her hands upon her breast and half
whispered-"give me only little long
er time" !"
1 did not urge her, why should 1? l
believed that she saw the change in my
feelings and was panied by it. Igriev-
ed that this should be SO, but what
could I do? We were all doomed to
suffer.
1t was at noon-time, in the factory,
that asked her-partly on the spur OF
the moment, partly because I could be
spared the hypocrisy of any tender
passages there.
l went back 70 my work. We used
steam, of course. To this hour don't
know what went wrong. Suddenly
there was an explosion, an awful noise,
a rush, piercing cry, and woman
flung herself before me, throwing her
dress, her hair, her apron, l know not
what, about my neck and face, and
then knew no more for many hours.
When l recovered consciousness, l
found myself uninjured, save by the
shock; but Milly-my poor, generous,
wronged love-Milly was dying.
She had thrown herself before me,
screening me from the smoke and
steam. She was bruised, crushed, al
most past recognition, only the gentle
eyes, full of mingled agony and love,
looked up into my face, unchanged.
"Don't cry" she whispered, as |
knelt beside her bed, in all the misery
of remorse and self-reproach. cit is SO
much better thus. l am so glad to
have it thus, dear. It's only life that
1 am losing now. Had lived longer
l should have lost you, and | loved you
dearer than my life"
May had been sent for. 1t was mid
night ere she arrived, and Milly was
sinking fast.
She frightened at the sight of the
weeping girl, though.
emo tears" she said. 81 meant to
give you to each other by and by, as
| coon &c T could CONQUER NV own heart