The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1884-08-30
willing, then. to wait three years, you
will join your regiment"

but not this one. will have you
exchanged into one quartered within q
few miles, and you may come home for
three months every year until the term
OF probation Is over"
"Well, if it must be- But how shall
| know if she loves me''
why, ask her, OF course.
"Oh, | should never dare"
well, then, obey your father and
pack off at once"
"Ah, uncle, you do not know Naomi.
A hundred times have tried to declare
nv passion | have even composed
speeches. and learned them by heart;
but at the moment of speaking my
courage wancs, and each word chokes
me. Her expression is so sweet but
vet so grave. The man worthy Of her
Is not born. Writing was useless
When my illusions were penned and
ready to be sent, their utter foolishness
struck me so forcibly that | was at
pains to tear my notes into small
pieces"
Nevertheless, you must make up
your mind to speak at once. Your
father has not told you all; he sends
you to Clermont because his friend the
Colonies daughter, is destined to be-
come your bride. 1t would indeed be
good match-no protestations-this
is as 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 perchance, the
nonsense is theirs. II the girl loves you
you must sacrifice all for her-'tis stu
Did, maybe, but right. We must first
ascertain if she loves you, and now is
the time, for they seek to marry her.
All, ha! that makes you shuddcr and
grow pale! You long to have your ri
val at swords point, as we used 10 say
in my young days. Well, courage; face
your beautiful Naomi If you are rich
cr than she, her intended husband is
richer than you, besides having title
and being quite ready for the cerc-
mony; her rousseau is even beng
made. You are not prepared; 20 to
her, declare your love-shc knows 1t,
but one is always expected TO make the
declaration. II 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 exchange, and in three years
marry you to Naomi in spite OF your
father-in spite of the devil himself, -
II have an idea. y
"Wcll?"
81 will write to her y
Very well.
after leaving my dear uncle, | set
about writing that note. The writing
was no difficult matter, for had done
it hundred times before; the puzzle
was how to give it to her. However,
there was no time for indcci5ion, so |
soon made up my mind, and, having
purchased a bunch of yellow roses, l
slipped my declaration in among the
flowers. | still recall the words of that
note. After declaring my passion,
besought Naomi to love me little in
return, and to wait three years for
me- If she consented, asked her. as
a sign, to wear one of my roses that
evening. Then would dare to speak
of my-of our future plans"
"Ah! you hid that note in the bou-
quet?" breathlessly interrupted Nine.
Lorgercl
YES, madame"
"And then?"
well, Naomi wore no flower that
evening was desperate, and in my
misery sought to take my life. My
good uncle took me to Clcrmont, stayed
there two months, and did all in his
power to distract my thoughts from
Naomi, declaring she could never real
" have cared for me.
But, uncle" | used to object, "she
always 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 banishing
Naomi image from my heart. mar
ricd the Coloners daughter, who,
eight years later, left me u childless
widower. My dear uncle has been long
dead and am now alone in the world.
Would you believe it, my friendsP |
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 lovc-a tall, graceful girl, with
auburn hair, and, as my uncle used to
say. black, velvet eyes.
you know not what became of hcrP"
mo, madame.
"Then your name is not Descou-
drais'?'
"No; that is the name of my uncle's
estate; mine is d Altheim
II knew itl'
"Why?-howP'
Il will tell you what become of Ma
omi-shc loved you.
"But the note-the roseS?'
she never found your note. Your
sudden departure cost her many bitter
tears and then she married NJ. de Lor-
gerel.
M. de Lorgerel?'
Whose widow | am"
Then you-you are Naomi Amclot?'
Eyes; just as you are, or rather, rs !
you are not, the Edmond d'Althcim OF /
my youth.
ITO think we should meet one day as
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