The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1889-03-01
& * NEW SERIES.

Ian admirably prudent mutunk0. I
oh, my dear, when / msrneo TH. 4 /
nn;iI;ner.. and we had but two Eupdred !,
wear between us, we were happy people
HAMMER than these! For we loved one an
otber and we married for love. And tneid
was not single 'cause or impediment ~
the sioht of God or man why we shouio
not marry. which-God forgive her-is
more than can say Of John BowerosnK
wife,"
Mrs. Smiles looked so shocked, so frigh.J
ened. that too candid Mrs. knowie couIH
almost have cut her tongue out 10. .no
that Mrs. Smiles was terrible gossip, pue
ebe also knew that a certain dim sense oi
dntv and pride, which exists in many Greai
takers. made her, however, unscrupuious
over a secret which she had ferreted out OF
onessed Mt. if honestly trusted, by no means
1ntrustworthy. With sudden decisionL
| for the position was CRITICAL snougn-sne
good biyerpooI lady turned 70 her LondoI hs2
friend ndxho ao;; yss S.1ss.sls: nss E gao s0HAA 8
81. sorry eSer let q word drop, Mrs
1uguIr' rnuugn II was nothing disoreditabfe
my dear, do assure you. Indeed, az re-
| CARDS character, not word could ever be
breathed against Emily Kendall, or her
father. either. They bear perfectly un-
blemished name. And perhaps what nnp-
pened was nothing more than happened to
almost every girl in her teens-they fall in
| love and out Of love dozen times before
| they marry-but l never thought Emily was
that sort of girl, either"
"And was she in love, or engaged? Do
tell me. Who was it? Anybody 1 know?"
said Mrs. Smiles, eagerly.
Mrs. knowle wished herself at the bot
tom Of the sea before she had let her feel
ings carry her away into making such q
cruel mistake, such fatal admission; but
still the cnly safe way to remedy it was to
tell the whole truth, and then trust to her
friends sense of honor. After all, it was
not a very terrible truth. AS she had we'll
said, the thing happens dozens Of times to
dozens of girls.
"Il tell you the whole story, Mrs.
Smiles, if you will promise not to speak of
II. Not that it was anything bad; poor
nsinra they were SO youns it aBaee
caused us-my husband and mo-a great
deal of trouble at the time, for it happened
in our house"
",rhis love AFFAIR.""
"Yes, a real love affair-not a bit like
poor John Bowerbanks sober courtship, but
an old fashioned love affair; heart warm
so warm that Edward said it put him in
mind of our own young days. And the
people were -"
II can guess, for / was with you two
days of the time of Emily Kcndal's visit,
and l think l can sec as far into q mill
stone as most people. 1t was young Stem
house2"
Mrs. Knowle nodded, with q sad look in
her kindly eyes. Just SO! Poor fellow, /
have scarcely spoken his name, even to my
husband-ever since ho sailed to India, n
year and half ago. Wo were so sorry TO
1n,n T IL IL, 10
know-entered the Office as boy of fifteen
and that was how he came so much to
our house while she was visiting us. And
he was fine young fellow, quito the gem
tleman; and she was n lass in her teens,
and q bonny lass she was, too, then--so of
course they fell in love with one another
and, mercy me! how could help it2 He
behaved very honorably, poor fellow! came
and told me Mt once as soon as ever he had
proposed to her-that is, if he ever did
formally propose. rather think not, but
that they found each others feelings by
tho merest accident. For l remember he
said to me, in such burst Of passion as !
never saw yet in mortal man. I've been an
ass, and some folk might call me knave
for sho has fifty thousand pounds and L
haven't half-penny!' Poor lad!-poor
lad!"
"And what did you do?"
"What could do-shut the stable door
when the steed was stolen? Why, my dear
woman, told you-the poor things loved
ono another"
An argument which did not seem to weigh
very much with Mrs. Smiles. She drew
herself up with dignity.
"a most unfortunate and ill-adviscd Mt
tachment. ], as n mother OF n family Of
dauchters. must certainly say"
"What would you say?"
"Ihat / would cONsider IL nv buSiness to
prevent it."
"How could prevent it?" exclaimed Mrs.
Knowle, pathetically, as if the troubles her
warm heart had undergone at that time
were bitter even in remembrance. Here
were two nice young people-one nineteen,
tho other five and twenty, meeting every
day-liking one anothcrs company, finding
out continually how we'll they suited and
how dearly they enjoyed being together.
In truth the very sight of them walking
under the lilac trees, or sitting outside tho
drawing room window with heap of books
between them, talking and reading, and
laughing to themselves in their innocent,
child sh way, used to do my heart good.
Many a timo | thought if God had been
pleased to give Edward and me such a
daughter, or if our little Edward, that's
lying waiting for his mother, in Hale
church. -yard-well, that's nonsonse!' said
the good woman, with sudden pause and
chokipg-of the voice. All mean is that,
in our childless house, those young people
were very pleasant company; and / used
often to think if either of them was my own,
oh, wouldn't do deal to make them both
happy! But it wasn't to bet wasn't to
be. And now she has gone and married
John Bowerbank.
Mot" continued the lady, after pause,
mot that / have n word to say against John
Bowerbank He is Mr.. Kendnls friend, and
my husbands fliend; the three are all about
the same age, too. lie is n very good man;
but he isn't John Stenhouse. And. oh
me! when ] call to mind how fond John
Stenhouse was of Emily Kendall, and
how fond poor Emily was of him of all
the misery they went through together
of the nights 1 sat by her bedside
until she sobbed herself TO sleep--and of
tho days when young Stenhouse went to
and fro between our house and the count
ing-house, with his face as white as death,
and his lips tiercely set, and look OF
stony despair in his Dyes. Oh! my dear, 1
think must have been dreaming when saw
hn ol,y