The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1885-10-21
BETTER THAN GOLD.

y
low, with no beauty save a pair O.
dark, expressive eyes, that lighted
up his face with look of intelligence
and goodness.
The other was a fair young girl
whose ripping hair glittered like
gold in the sunlight that fell over it
and eyes of the clearest and soites1
blue.
There was a changeful color il
the cheeks, and a conscious look il
the averted eye that felt rather thar
saw the earnest gaze that was direct
ed toward them.
"And SO you are going to leave US
Amy?"
"Yes, John am going to the city
tomorrow. Don't you envy me
1t doesn't seem as if 1 could survive
another winter in this dull place"
John Thornly WINGED little a
these words.
And vet YOU have spent many
kappy years here" he said, in ton.
of gentle reproach.
ITO be sure responded Amy
with toss of the head when
was child it was all very veil. Bu
of late it does seem Millbrook grew
duller every day of my life"
"Then you don't think you woulG
like to settle down here?"
Amy well knew all that lay be
meath those low, quietly spoken
words.
At one time they would have made
her heart beat with different feelings
but the newly awakened aspirations
of the past week changed them to
alarm at the crisis that was ap-
proacching, and which she was anx-
ious to avoid.
mo, John, | don't believe that !
should ever be contented to settle
down in Millbrook," she said reso-
lutely, doing her best to look uncon-
scious of the blow she knew these
words inflicted on that loving and
faithful heart.
"Then it will be of no use for me
to tell you the errand on which !
came tonight" he said, sadly $50
that | will only wish you happiness
in the new life that is before you.
In all the gay and brilliant circles
that will surround you, you will
never find friendship SO true and
faithful as mine. Should sorrow OF
misfortune overtake you, remember
this"
He was gone.
And as Amy watched his retreat
ing form, something deeper than sor-
row for his sorrow touched her heart.
A thousand instances of his worth
and goodness thronged upon her
recollection.
Would she ever find a heart as
true and noble as his?
But these regrets soon vanished
before the bright anticipations OF
the future.
Her uncle and aunt were wealthy
and childless. They had offered
her a home, and in the refined cir
Gle in which they moved she would
be likely to find some one more con-
genial with her feelings.
"Mr. Frederic Crowley called upon
me to-day, Amy"
A bright, swift color rose to the
cheeks of the young girl.
The face of the good old man sad
dened as be observed it.
"Yes. uncle"
"He told me that he called by
your permission"
The grave tone in which this was
spoken struck coldly on Amy's heart.
She. raised her eyes to his with a
startled look.
81 am sorry to hear that, my
child
"Why, uncle. what objections can
you have to Frederic Crowley p
II have no faith in him, Amy. He
is a snowy; brilliant man, but desti-
tute of the fixed principles that can
alone insure your happiness.
You wrong him, uncle"
Time will show. Don't look so
distressed, my child if you are re-
ally in earnest, / will not oppose
your wishes. But / cannot but
think your fancy to be captivated
rather than your heart. Wait few
months-you are both young and
can afford to wait-and if you con-
tinue to be of the same mind / will
say no more"
Amy yielded q ready assent TO
this.
''She was in no hurry" she said.
But she found some difficulty in rec
onciling Frederic to this delay, who
manifested an impatience which Sc
cretly delighted Amy, who looked
upon it as q proof of the ardor and
sincerity of his love.
Two months after Mr.. Hunts con-
versation with his niece the good