News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1888-12-06

n M<HH<S=< 4 over. 1t was
XxS.E/<X temptation resistet
F.<< ~ & but L felt bette
- after having done it
t39 -=|1=r-e, - As / was asserting
EAS~<\N@ the letters prepara
IA 81 ~ " tory to putting then
iA NS@ " in the mail bag fo
Z New York, one let
TS n ~ ( ter turned up AM
wy 81 sent jealous shocl
E- through me thai
I've = ceNre sent my heart throb
bing and my brain
swimming with sudden dizziness.
l might have expc cted to have seen il
there, but not the less did it affect me
when did see it-''Joseph Norris, In
d1a Dock, New Eork''-that was the ad-
dress-an / lnew that it WAS his. /
had dear little note in that same hand
writing next to my heart then-a few
graceful words thanking ME for book
had sent her little note that I had
real over countless times, and kissed it
often, wondering would ii tlisplease her
to know how fondly l cherished it. [
thrust the hateful letter ont of my sight
md leaning my head on the table, lived
over again the hopes, the fears, the
wretchedaess of the last twenty-four
hours.
The day before, while distributing the
mail matter, / came across letter ad-
dressed to myself, and on opening it I
learned that through the generosity of q
distant relative, whose name bore, /
had been leftin California an inheritance
OF $40, 600. What change q few strokes
OF pen had male transforming Karl
Bergmaun, postmaster of a secluded
Eastern village, nto Karl Bergman the
possessOr of a competence, well invested.
yielding n certain income And how
before my good fortune / had thought
OF Annie Merrill as one separated from
me by my poor circumstances, my salary
barely supporting my mother and my
self, and how could ask any woman to
share my poverty. Now that burden
OF poverty was most unexpectedly lifted
from me, l felt at liberty to tell her the
hopes | never dared TO entertain till now.
What would her answer be? That | |
would learn that very night. In the !
same mail with my letter was one ad- |
dressed to her, postmarked New York.
Her correspondence all passed through
my hands, but I had never seen that
writing before. That was no weak,
feminine style. 1t was large,
clear, decisive, writing of a self {
possessed man. Who conld the w-itc- :
be ~~-lnies uncle, DR., Merrill, had I
male correspondents I New York. But !
this letter was the E.ret tiAat had come to {
her since she came orphaned from the
great city year before, and had been
received into her uncle's heart and home. ]
But other thoughts put the question of
l, La - Tt,1 T lOr-r
messenger q few hurried lines to my
mother to prepare her for our good for
tune, and then counted the hours that
would pass before | could offer my in
heritance to Annie encumbered with its
possessor. When 1 reached home /
found her there before me. My mother
who had taken her into her favor from
the first, her sweetness and orphaned
situation proving passport to her heart,
had sent for Annie to communicate the
good news to her. She WAS strangely
Quiet thought, and there was troubled
look in her blue eyes never saw there
before. In fact, after awhile subdued
feeling stole over rs all. Annie's dis
quiet seemed to impart itself to us. /
was thinking how / could venture to tell
her all nv hopes, and my mother, guess
ing what my thoughts were, left us to-
Cether most of the evening, but my
heart failed me. 1t was only when | was
walking home with Annie to DIR. Mer-
rill's that 1 found courage to speak. She
led me on by saying that l must not
think from her silence that she did not .
rejoice in the happy change in my pros
poets, but no one could be more sincere
In her congratulations than herself. /
answered that my COOL fortune would be
vaIueless to me unless l could share it
with the girl l loved.
1.-THE girl you love?" she repeated,
questioningly.
/ felt her hand tremble on my arm.
s"The girl I love, 1 answered, in tones
that she might have interpreted, but
failed to do so.
"She ought to be happy woman"
she continued. "May ask if 1 know
herr"
eff you know her I cried. "H you
know her o. who could she be but
you 2"
"Me?"
She drew her hand quickly away from
my arm and stood quite still before me.
Mel o, did you say me r.
And then / saw the moonlight falling
on her face, and it was not the face of
girl shining with happy confusion when
she hears the story of his love from the
man whom she prefers. 1t was pale and
and then she hid it from me in
her hands and burst into tears.
needed no other answer. | knew my
suit was hopeless
"Don't cry, dear P' said l, 81 never
thought to wound YOU
al thought you knew" she went on,
-" J. thought my uncle might
have told you. ! am to marry Mr.. Nor
ris. / got letter from him to-day. O!
can you forgive me r.
She stretched out her little hands i'm
ploringly. 1 took them In mine, and
kissed them--they were sacred to me
they belonged to another, and / kissed
them while my heart was breaking.
Forgive you my darling I" ] said,
'I would forgive you if you killed me, |
think. Don't grieve, Annie, wi try
to bear it.
We parted at her uncle's without an
other word, and l went home to the
heart that | knew would suffer
with me, but whose tender sympathy
would uphold me iii this hour of bitter
trial
The next day sent off my resignation
to Washington, Tor my mother and /
agreed to leave the village where we had
passed so many quiet years. 1t was in
the afternoon of the same day that the
letter of which ] had spoken, that now
knew was for my rival, attracted my at
tention. l took it up reluctantly felt
I would as tadily have touched poi
sonous snake-and was just about to put
the postmark on when 1 saw that the
stamp upon it, instead Of being n postal
one, was a revenue stamp, and that the
letter, instead of speeding off on wings
of love to New York, must be consigned |
TO the dead letter Office in Washington.
With thrill of savage delight flung it /
into the box appropriated to the recep-
ton of snch castaways and went on with |
my evenings york With that work l |
went on mechanically, but my thoughts
were not agreeably employed. That |
then was the answer to the missive viii il |
she had received. But it should be long |
before he would get it-get it too late