The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1889-02-21

after profound misgiVings2 l opened
it, and there in my familiar characters.
was the inscription that r had placed
there years before: r. e ~
! To MISS MARY HEATHcoTE,
From her Friend, Milton Cope,
It was a, rare edition of the songs Of
George Herbert, and I had underscored
the lines: -
"Only sweet and virtuous soul, -
| Like seasonal timber, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to COAL
Then chiefly lives"
o faithless womankind! I recalled
those melting eyes, those trembling
hands, and called myself fool for
treasuring a memory of the inconstant
one. went over with much force all
the poetical anathemas which, from the
beginning of time, have been hurled at
woman. Nodoubt she had sold my gift,
and it had strayed hither, to make food
for the unfeeling eyes of city multi
tude. I questioned the bookseller, but
he knew nothing. I was too poor to pur.
chase the volume, but begged him to put
it aside until / could claim it.
1t was now five years since I left the
town of D.. remembered that had
never written home, for I had romantic
notion that I would be famous within
six months after my departure. in
tended to announce myself to my parents
and to Mary with flourish of trumpets,
filling the one with remorse, and the
other with pride. Then, after tears and
reconciliation. would be king of home
and love, and -
That volume upset me. 1t made me
angry, it made me sal. had begun an
article on Bibliolatry, but could not
finish it. In the midst of brown study
I heard knock at my door, followed by
the curt announcement: "a lady to see
you.". The statement staggered me; it
I almost induced fit of laughter. For
fiynlong years the only intercourse.
had had with womankind was the
monthly meeting with my landlady. Bsa
before I could control my astonishment,
in stepped Mary Heathcote. Remem.
bering the book, I greeted her with but
moderate warmth, while the efusiveness
of her go Miltonl" bewildered me. ~
l was more than troubled. As gazed
upon her could not believe she would
practice deceit. She was taller, falfcr,
and more beautiful than when / left her,
with sweet, angelic look which stilled
the rcbellious words upon my tongue.
| gradually learned that my father was
very ill at D., that, he expressing an
earnest desire to see me, my presence hao
been advertised for. That, obtaining nc
information, Mary, prompted by love,
and thinking that because of the mar
rowness of my purse, l had sought the
nearest large city, B, started Out
bravely in search Of me, with but few
dollars to aid her, and my treasured vol
ume of songs to console her. Seeing hel
money fade away, and yet hopeful o.
meeting me, she reluctantly parted with
my offering.
AT this started up and embraced my
darling. How I cursed myself for my
doubts! How ] blamed myself fol-
questioning one of the purest, noblest
spirits that ever livedl / dried her tears
with kisses, and told her how unworthy
of her l was.
| Mary then proceeded to relate how SHE
found my address. Knowing me to bt
lover of books, she naturally inquired
about me at the stalls. Before had sue
ceeded in getting some literary work. tt
l do, it seems that had left my address
I at one of the booksellers in case he a.
any time should be in need Of one wei
up in folios and hy-leaves. :.
And SO with new Joy in my heart, and
accompanied by Mary, I bade goodbye
to my landlady, who really seemed sorry
to part with me. ! approached the home
Ihad not seenin FIVE years with o tumult
nous spirit. Remorse tinged my feelings
and when, shortly after, my father died
my sorrow knew no bounds.
To-day the tply bookstore in the
ttiving towRol D - is mine. Mary
is at my side, and she has imhibed some
of that insidious bibliomania which
makes books the be-all and the end all
Every now and then, in reminiscen
mood, we take out of its secluded nool
a dainty volume upon whose 6y::leaf Il
the inscription:
To MISS MARY HEATHcoTE,
From her Friend, Milton Cope.
went to and purchased it i'm