Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1884-01-10

Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
CELESTINE
THE STORY OF A MISTAKE.
CHAPTER III.

should grieve for her fathers death was
natural, and he was not at all inclined to
censure her for it. But he felt instinctively
that she had some cause for sorrow apart
from her loss, and he longed to win her
confidence sufficiently to be able to discover
what this cause was. In spite OF his efforts,
it seemed as though barrier of some sort
existed between them, which prevented
the establishment of such perfect unreserVe
and confidence as he desired.
He was deeply troubled by the persistent
recurrence of an idea which had forced it
self involuntarily into his mind. Had he
done wrong in hurrying Celestine into their
marriage ? did she really care for him as ne
had hoped she did ? or was the love only on
his side?
He remembered her surprise, her hesita-
ton, when his proposal had first been made
to her. He feared now that he had thought
too much of his own wishes-and yet he had
been influenced not only by his love, but by
a most earnest desire to afford her his pro-
lection, to throw the shield of his tender
care over her loneliness, and shelter her IN
his warm, true heart from rough contact
with the world. He had been moved by
the purest of impulses, but it might be that
he had erred in yielding to them.
Mr.. Warren was man of calm and even
cold exterior, but beneath the surface rushed
a current of strong and ardent feeling, al
the more powerful because habitually held
in check. Never before had his nature
been so deeply stirred rs by the new emo
ton awakened within this sudden, pas
sionate love for Celestine, which, springing
like flash into being, had taken possession
of him with overwhelming force. tie al
ready felt that to resign such a love would
be like tearing out the fibres of his heart.
But what if it were not responded to?
1t was not that Celestine appeared cold or
Indifferent. On the contrary. now that her
first timidity had somewhat worn of, she
began to manifest certain clinging tender
ness towards him, which often thrilled him
with delight. She continually turned to
him for advice, and seemed happy to con-
suit his wishes, his opinions, about every
thing. Any suggestion made by him was
followed instantly, and with manifest pleas
ure on her part. Yet in spite of all this,
there were times when sudden chill would
fall upon her. and he fancied that she shrank
from his notice, as though she were oppress-
ed by some secret trouble which she would
not have him share. 1t was this thought
which hurt him-that her confidence was
only his in part, and he argued within him
self that if her heart were wholly his she
would wish to keep nothing from him. At
such times he would fancy, bitterly, that the
little shy demonstrations, which he had
happily accepted from her as evidences, OF
her love, were but forced on her part-that
it was an impulse of duty alone which i'm
PEELED her to make show of responding to
the manifestations of his own tenderness; !;
and that she was trying to school herself
into proper frame of heart and mind, as a
child would conscientiously apply itself to
the study of distasteful task.
Entering her room one day, at an hour
when he was usually occupied in his study,
he found her reading letter, which, on his
entrance, she instantly crushed together in
her hand, while a deep flush suffused her
face.
Her confusion was too marked to escape
his notice. A thrill of pain shot through
him at the thought that she had anything
to conceal, but he schooled himself to speak
in his usual tone as he addressed some triv-
ial inquiry to her, quite foreign to the sub
iect on which he had come prepared to con-
suit her.
She made rather irrelevant answer, still
looking embarrassed and distressed. Mr..
Warren hesitateda a moment. Here was some
mystery which possibly it might be his duty
to solve. Why not question her frankly,
and perhaps end at once the painful reserve
happiness? But his own natural reticence
overcame the impulse, and hard, bitter
feeling arose in its place.
"Pray, do not allow me to disturb you,:
he said, coldly and proudly. 81 seem to
have interrupted you at an unfortunate time,
and will not remain"
"Oh! no-not at all-you don't disturb
me-" she faltered, blushing still more deep
ly than before, while tears rose to her eyes
81 am not busy"
"Only engaged with some interesting cor
respondence," he could not forbear saying,
with glance at the letter in her hand.
tine. | have no wish to discover any of
YOUR secrets" And hastily turning away
he left the room. A tumult of feeling agi-
tatpd him. Wounded affection, Il suspicion
of some wrong, mingled with instant regret
at his own self-betrayal, excited him beyond
control. He was pacing his study with
nervous, hurried steps, trying to stem the
chaos of his troubled thoughts, when the
door opened and Celestine entered, her face
stained with tears, the crunpled letter still
in her grasp.
"Read it-oh, read it," she cried in a
broken voice, as she forced it into his un-
willing hand. l beg you will. 1 cannot
rest until you do; but l am afraid you will
never forgive me-"
She was turning swiftly to retreat, when
he caught her hand firmly and drew her
back.
"Stay, Celestine," he commanded. "If
there is anything for me to learn, | must
learn it in your presence. If there is any
thing for me to forgive, do not run away
from my forgiveness. have perceived, " he
added in a lower tone, "that there has been
something between us-sOmethlng kept
back-I know not what God knows l have
tried to win your confidence, and have freely
Won rpiOp hUt if seems the effort has
been vain-perhaps | have not tried Alright ;
whatever the reason may be, | feel that l
have failed There don't give way like
that" he continued, for she was now sObbing
aloud. ooh! child, are you unhappy? Have
I so miserably erred in my endeavor to
secure your welfare?"
"Oh, no, no! You do everything-yOu
have done the fault is all mine" ="
she answered through her tears. 81 have
been wicked and dishOnest-1 have kept
hack the truth but you will find it out now.
The letter will tell you, at least part. |
should die if had to conceal it any longer"
Without replying, her husband opened
the mysterious letter; with great dread OF
what its contents might be almost over
came him, and seemed for moment to blur
his sight. When at last he got the drift of
the words scrawled, in a large irregular
hand, on the page before him, a complete
amazement was the result. He seemed to
be reading a puzzle without being able to
arrive at its solution. He looked through
it tagain-eXamnedth the date, the signature
then in altered tone said,
81 cannot make this out at all. Will you
explain it to me"'
''That letter." she humbly replied, speak
ing with downcast eyes and crimson cheeks,
'Was addressed to me three years ago, by the