The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-10-28

and your happiness has always beer
the object of my thoughts"
'Thank you, Henry! thank you!'
and with o frank, Unconscious and IN
speakably tender manner, she laiG
both hands upon his shoulders, anc
bent her deep, beautiful eyes upon hi
1t was next to impossible for any
one to resist the fascination of that
glance, and Henry. attracted without
the power OF resisting, took her lace il
his hands and kissed her forehead.
1t recalled him to himself: and thu
sudden revulsion was absolute tor
ture.
II cannot pretend to advise you in
this matter, my sweet cousin" he be
gan; "but if you entertain the thought
l trust you will be happy"
81 detest the man!'' cried Ellen
tiinging away his hand angrily. Zone
would think that all were Turned
against me-"
"Do not believe it," said Henry
gravely. "And as this may be the
last interview"
1.-The last?" echoed Ellen.
'That we may have for years to
come, let us not part with g. misun
Outstanding. Had my own prospects
been different l should have found my
self in a condition TOTO advise you
BETTER"
I'm what way, Henry?" asked Ellen
with an arch smile.
II cannot tell you now. Let it
suffice to say that my inability to do
aught prevents me from saying what
l would. Poor and dependent as
am, with a debt of gratitude to pay
which would not have lessened by a
sentiment OF false pride, l must tell
you that for my own happiness, my
own advancement, l must make q
bold step in the world and fight
for my own share of good or ill for.
tune. as late Wills it"
But what necessity is there fol-
this?" demanded Ellen, with a touch
OF her old impatience. "Does not my
father love you? Has he not made
your future prospects his study? Be-
sides it will be necessary for you to
attend, as near relative, at my bri.
dal."
A faint smile crossed his pale lips as
he said, "In this, without accusing
me OF unkindness, you must hold me
excused. can make some sacrifice Of
feeling, but this is beyond my power"
will you, if you please, speak plain.
er, and tell me what you mean and
why you cannot do this?" asked Ell.
len, with mock gravity; ''for," thought
she, ,'he will tell me now that he loves
me-"
Every sentiment which makes a
man respect himself-every impulse o1
honor will tie my tongue forever on
that head. Spare me then, Ellen" he
added mournfully. Wcannot prolone
this interview. am so little tutored
in Disgusting my feelings, that l must
say regret this, while l trust it will
eventually lie for the security Of your
own happiness"
"You love ME, Henry-you love me!''
cried Ellen, catching him by the arm
Ellen felt that he trembled from
head to foot. She saw that he turned
as pale as death; but the firm com.
preston of those pallid lips told her
that nothing could wiring forth con.
fession from him. She knew that his
lofty nature cherished sense
OF honor bordering upon the
chivalric. He was silent.
"Must I, then, speak," said Ellen
lis the order ofthings to be reversed?'
And she smiled raaiantly. 1T is vel
for my maidenly character that lear
year entities ladies to a privilege
which they may use uncensured. Hen
ry, my dear consin, l love you! Must
sue in vain? Will you not love your
pretty cousin Euen?''
The establishment OF the youth was
only equalled by his Joy. With the
most unfeined rapture beaming out ir
every feature, he could barely articu
late her name. "Ellen!'
"Well, sir?"
care you TESTING with me? Do not
torture my heart, already over
wrought"
"Cousin Henry, love you," was
her reply; twill you not love me il
return?"
Nov, and for ever!" exclaimed he
clasping her to his breast. "As 1 hav,
always fondly loved you"
'Then let us 60 in and see papa,
said Ellen. II am sure of his con
sent, and what is more, was of ag,
yesterday, and no one seems to hav,
taken the slightest notice of it.. SC
that if he should be inclined TO object
l can act upon. my own responsible
ty."
Need we say the result? The sam,
day Sir John Vernon's consent ratifi
ed their loves, and q few weeks afte,
beheld them happily welded; and tn,
festivities OF that occasion will prob
ably be engraven in the chronicles o
some country traditions when thos,
who gave rise to them are sleepin,
peacefully in the dust; their lives hav
ing glided away in the midst of peac,
and domestic felicity.