The Penn's Grove record., 1885-10-17
Duty.

w iuOW SlaN SOl o PACuodiAb iAOAlC, anu
lighting with occasional flashes of the
fine face of Albert Marshall, as he paced
restlessly across the room, and encir-
cling with q halo of golden light the
bowed head Of the young girl half re-
clInIng In the low window seat.
Out of doors all was bright and beau
tiful, scarcely in harmony with the
sorrowing excitement which was con-
vulsing every Federal heart, for the
electric wires had born to every part of
the north the tidings of the defeat of
her sons by the C~onfederates.
1t vas that which lighted up Albert
Marshall's face with such stern en-
thusiasm, and caused his restless move
ments across the su~n-lighted room.
sit has become a matter of duty
now" he was saying with sparkling
eyes; ''the best blood Of our native
state has been shed by the rebels and
it is time that every man who can
shoulder a musket should use it to re-
dress the wrongl Ny place is in the
ranks, and / cannot shrink from duty
now. Do you bid mi go, GenieI Are
you willing 1 should go7"
"How can you ask itp" she said at
ldSOS WIN Ups WIiSu QulNClCu Ill oplIb
of her efforts ut self-control. "You
know full well l should never be vii.
ling.
mot when you know it is my duty,
and that l should be proving myself a
coward and traitor to shrink from it2"
he said earnestly.
sit is not duty }" she answered i'm
patiently; cit is only a boyish enthu.
siasm in you--a love of change and ex-
element"
"Only a boyish enthusiasm o. &C.
ME, " he said, reproachfully, show lit
tie you understand the feelings of a man
in such a moment as this, when our
country'S flag has been torn down and
deied. l must go, Geniel l cannot
shrink from the duty so sternly impos-
edi In one month, Genie y he resumed
''you were to have been my wife, and
| came here this morning to ask you to
forestall that time and become mine
before we part. Shall it be so, darl-
lng?"
He bent tenderly over her, awaiting
her answer.
For a minute OF two she remained
silent; then raising her head, and turn
ing toward him a face white with in
tense feeling, she said with passionate
earnestness: "No; not now, nor ever,
if you persist in this mad scheme"
He rose slowly to his feet and stood
with folded arms sternly regarding her.
There they stood, face to face; his re-
veallng sorrow, disappointment and
surprise-hers irmness, scorn and de
fiance.
Virginia" he said at length, in
slow, measured tones, "what am l to
understand by thisf"
"Just what / have said; If you persist
in this, our engagement is broken for
everi The man whom l marry must
love me well enough to be willing to
sacrifice his wishes to mine, and not for
a little vain glory, rush headlong into
danger, from which reason and judy
ment would restrain him."
And this is your final d~ecision?" he
asked coldly.
remain at home and l will be your wife
at the appointed time, but persist in
this absurd scheme of leaving home
and friends from a mistaken idea of
duty, and we part forever, for / must
stand first; no other love must come be-
tween me and the man l marry"
Very, very %eloquently he pleads with
her, portraying in vivid colors all the
necessities of the case; but all in vain.
"As well as l have loved you, Vir-
ginia," he said at last, finding all his
efforts useless, ''as well as | love you
now, l cannot falter In the path of
duty. 1 must go; l cannot forsake my
country In her hour of needi"
Every well; you have made your
choice; do not blame me if you regret
it."
Slowly and deliberately she took the
engagement ring from her finger and
held 1t towards him.
For a moment he stood silently re-
garding her as she held the ring out
toward him, with that cold. stern look
on her face; then taking it, he cast it
to the farthest end of the room.
"Thus would | cast out from my
heart" he said, bitterly, ''every thought
of a woman 30 unworthy my love, that
at the moment when I needed love and
sympathy most. sternly withheld them
except on condition of my becoming a
coward and a traitorl / wish you Joy
of your freedom, Miss Clayton"
He bowed h%aughtily and turned to
leave the room, but his better nature
triumphed; he could not leave I'm scorn
and anger the woman he had loved
better than his own life, ever though
she had proved herself unworthy. An
other moment and he was beside her,
fondling her In his arms with all his
old tenderness.
MAY heaven forgive you, Genie"
he said, sorrowfully. ''the great wrong
you are doing us both One day you
will think differently from what you
do now. Heaven bless you'll" And with
a hurried Kiss he was gone.
With eyes half blinded with tears she
watched him until he was lost to her
sight; then, burying her face in the sofa
cushions, gave way to a passionate
burst of weeping.
For three long months Virginia
Clayton had lived in alternate hope and
fear; and now the terrible battle of
Bull Kun had been fought. She knew
the Sixteenth was engaged in it; three
days had passed, and with what tidings
of one member of that regiment you
and | can imagine, who have waited
thus for tidings of n dearer than
lives.
AT last, an ong a list of wounded men
conveyed to the various Washington
hospitals, she read, with a sharp pain
at her heart, captain Albert Mar
shall, in the breast, seriouslyl"
Neither pride nor selishness could
keep her from him now, and in six and
thirty hours she stood in the office of
the hospital, inquiring for Captain
Marshall. Whether she were wife,
sweetheart or sister, the attendant could
not have told; but the pale face, inten-
sely brilliant eyes, and the h~alf-falter-
ing accents OF the voice, told that she
was n whose happiness hung upon
his answer; and his ton softened while
the usual abruptness of his manIe be-
came gentle almost as a woman, as his
lips spoke the words which crushed her
last hope: "Died this morning at ten"
There was no cutlery from the pale
lips; only a hand of iron seemed grasp
ing her heart-a terrible weight had