The Osceola times., 1884-07-12

hers, and would never consent to tn.
match"
"In that case, uncle, know what
will do
Nonsense! Do nothing silly. Lister
to me. You can not marry at twenty"
"Why not?"
Because do not wish it, and with
out me this marriage can never tax,
place."
"Oh, dear uncle, ! beg
"lf the girl loves you, and is willing tc
wait three years.
Three years.
peace. or shall say four If she i.
willing, then, to wait three years, you
will join your regiment
| "Oh, uncleW
'But not this one. l will have YOU ex.
changed into one quartered within few
miles, and you may come home for three
months every year until the term of pro,
baton is over"
swell, if it must he-- But how shall
| know if she loves me?"
"Why, ask her, of course"
| "Oh, / shall never dare"
We'll, then, obey your father, and
pack off at once"
'Oh, uncle, you do not know Naomi
A hundred times have | tried TO declare
my passion; l have even composed
| speeches, and learned them by heart
but at the moment of speaking my cour-
age wanes. and each word chokes me-
Her expression is SO sweet, but vet so
grave. The man worthy of her is not
bornl Writing was useless. When my
etfusions were penned and ready TO be
sent, their utter foolishness struck me
50 forcibly that was at pains to tear
my note into small pieces.'
Nevertheless, you must make up
your mind to speak at once Your fa-
ther has not told you all; he sends you
TO Clermont because his friend, the colo
nel's daughter, is destined to become
your bride. 1t would indeed be good
match, but-no protsetations-all this is
MS nothing, if you are really in love with
Naomi. Love is folly-but it is a kind
of folly should regret never having
been guilty of. Old people may call it
nonsense, but, perchahce. the nonsense
is theirs. If the girl loves you, you must
sacrifice all for her-'tis stupid, maybe,
but right We must first ascertain il
she loves you. and now is the time, for
they seek TO marry her. All, ha! that
makes you shudder and grow palel You
long to have your rival at swords point,
as we used to say in my young days.
Well, courage; face your beautiful Naomi.
III you are richer than she, her intended
husband is richer than you, besides hay
ing title, and being quite ready for the
ceremony; her trousseau 10 even being
made. You are not prepared, 60 to her,
declare your love-she knows it, but one
is always expected to make the dcclara-
ton. If she loves you-she must, for you
are handsome, young, and clever. If she
is willing TO wait, write me so in a letter
which | may keep; then | will
prevent this other affair, get your ex-
change, and in three years marry you to
Naomi in spite Of your father-in spite of
the devil himselfl'
uncle, have an idea"
"Well?"
IL will write to her"
"Very we'll"
A'er leaving my dear uncle, / sat
about writing that note. The writing
was no difficult matter, for had done it
hundred lines before; the puzzle was
how to give it to her. However, there
was no time for indecision, so ! soon
made up my mind, and, having purchas-
ed bunch of yellow roses, slipped my
declaration in among the flowers. l still
recall the words of that note Aher de-
clarng my passion, besought Naomi to
love me u little in return, and TO wait
three years for me. If she consented,
| asked her, as n sign, to wear one of my
hat / Il
speak of my-of our future plans.
"Ahi YOU hid that note in the bouquet?'
breathlessly interrupted Madame Lor-
gerel.
"Yes, madame"
"And them"
"Well, Naomi wore no flowers that
evening. was desperate, and in my
misery sought TO take my life. NY good
uncle took me to Ulermont, stayed there
two months, and did all in his power to
distract my thoughts from Naomi de-
claring she never could have really cared
for me-"
"But, uncle" used to object, "she al
ways seemed SO pleased to see me, and
reproached me so gently when ! came
later than usual"
"Women seek the love of all men, but
care for very few"
At length | succeeded in bapishing
Naomi's image from my heart, | mar
ried the colonels daughter, who, eight
years later, left me childless widower
MY dear uncle has been long dead, and
| am now alone in the world. Would
YOU believe it, my friends'-I often to
this day think of Naomi, and she is still
to me, though now quite an old lady. the
Naomi Of my story-my first love tall
graceful girl, with auburn hair, and, so
my uncle used to say, black velvet eyes.
"You know not what become of herr"
"No, madame"
"Then your name is not Descoud-
raiesf'
"No; that is the name of my uncle's
estate; mine is d'Altheim."
al knew itp'
"Why?-how?"
81 will tell you what become of Naomi
she loved you"
"But the note-the roses2'
"She never found your note. Your
sudden departure cost her many bitter
tears, and then she married Monsieur
de Lorgerel.
an. de Lorgerell"
Whose widow Iam."
"Then you-yeu are Naomi Amelot?"
"Yes, Just as you are, or rather, rs you
are not, the Edmond d'Altheim of my
youth"
"To think we should meet one day as
strangers!'
Yes, and then only TO play at trie-
trac."
"The roses"-
"Are here. always kept them"
And Madame de Lorgerel, with hands