The Indianapolis sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1880-1904, 1885-04-26


when the journey was over that be and
Agnes returned engaged lovers
The next day Mr. Rae went earlier than
usual 70 Elm grove. He was starving for a
sight OF Agnes, and she wandered with him
about the grounds chatting cheerfully of the
tour which had fulfilled all their expecta-
tiOns, and been marred by so few disagree
able events or rainy days; and he listened
TO her wlsh such a gladness shining in his
eye as might, at another time, have en-
hgntenei her unsuspecting heart
They had walked down TO the water-side
to a rustic seat under fine old elm, whose
boughs stretched their wide arms over the
softly tapping waves.
you are making lovely place OF the
Pines" she said, looking across to the
bright turf and masses of glowing color on
the opposite bank "You are always doing
something new there"
Then su ldenly, and without any premedi-
tation, he told her Of the love he felt no
longer able to conceal.
he told her Of the hope always in his mind
in thu midst of his plans and improvements
and of the considerations which had deferred
him from speaking to her sooner, but he
had been sure, he said, that she had not been
wholly ignorant on his feelings, and that
thought emboldened him now to ask her il
she could love him, or be content with lot
which would be immeasurably beyond con-
tent to him
He knew there was some truth in the
proverb which says "there is always one
who loves, aud one who is willing to be
loved" but he was not exacting, and, in
this case, would have been happy if he had
known that he got less than he gave. But
it was indescribably bitter 10 him to hear
that he was not to get anything. Great sur
prise had left her silent while be was speak
ing, and she had not been collected enough
to stop him.
But, as he paused, she turned her limo
cent eyes of light TO his face, and seeing
there the true heart she had never seen be-
fore. said with falling tears:
Il have not been TO blame. Indeed,
never had the shadow of a thought that you
liked me this way, or l should have tried to
spare you this moment But must tell you
the truth now. 1t is best you should hear it
first from me- 1 am to be married next
month to PdiIip LOrimer."
He still looked at her, but made no pro-
tests in words against the stroke which shiv-
cred the whole fabric of life to him. she
saw the kind familiar face of her old
friend, with its warm hues OF health, blanct
and sharpen with mute, intolerable pain,
and even then an underlined instinct told
her that this was different love from that
she had so lately chosen as her portion; and
the blind, swift thought crossed her mind
like pang.
he was conscious of a desire TO get away
while be vas still master Of himself, and
silently put out his hand to her. AS she
! laid her soft little palm in his she said:
you will come back this evening. Papa
will want so much to see you"
NO" be replied, mot yet. If he wonders
at my absence tell him the reason Of it II
you like"
al shall not do that" she said; steadily.
| II shall tell no one. At least, l can do that
much for you. Let this be between you and
me only, and promise that you will come
soon"
Il shall go to the woods for while" ha
answered, "but will see your father and
mother first. And now goodbye"
He dropped the hand he had been holding
in that lingering clasp and turned quickly tC
his boat which lay but a few yards below
in the shade of the OLD elm tree.
Agnes watched the rapid strokes of his
oars as the little skif sped across the narrow
strait and saw him reach the landin -steps
at "tbe Pines, but his hair was gray before
she saw Oliver Rae again.
Agnes Osgoode was married and gone to
her new home i'll New York before Mr.. Rae
returned to "the Pines" He came back ap-
| parently the sane man that he had formerly
been, yet not at all the same if there had
! been anyone sufficiently concerned to OBJ
serve the difference.
His dumb friends and favorites felt q
| CHI ange in him, and knew obscurely that theiz
affections were not so welcome TO hun as
they had been. The peacocks certainly were
wholly unsentimental, being noisy and
| greedy, as usual, and so long as he came K
| them with full hands, missed nothing
| But by degrees his human acquaintance
began to perceive that he was a growing
| different sort of man. He was graver anC
sterner, and seemed older than his year:
would warrant. He was less patient and
mirthful with children than he used to be-
! He was not at all so pleasant man among
ladies as they once remembered him, anc
finally even his neighbor, Mr.. Osgoode
would say that Rae was out of sorts, and
| not SO good fellow as he had been"
| But he went his own way and struggled
against listleSsness and dependency, though
he found it hard to do his duty in the world
for duty's sake alone. Life looked very
blank and gray to him, but he did not veal
his heart upon his sleeve for the worlds
wise davis 70 peck at So the years followed
one another, and time did his certain worl
in bunting the first anguish of disappoint
ment which not forgotten.
He got over it." as we say when W,
emerge manned and married to our own
consciousness at least, from the grasp of
great sorrow; but be did not recover tn,
elasticity of happy man. He did no
marry, but resisted with quiet indifference
the Establishments of ladies in need of hus
bands and the advice of some true friend:
who thought that wife was just the on,
thing necessary for his completeness.
He had learned to take chatting upon thi
subject easily, and put off his counsellor
with various excuses, all equally valid. A
che time he said he couldn't afford it, and
again, that he "going to build new
greenhouse, and had no time to spare"
One bright cold April morning, abou
] aeyan wears after tho MARRIAGE of AOnas Us