Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-05-25

love me. can see how easy it is for . kind-souled girl like you, to like a great awkward fellow of my sort without low ing him. You say you like me, but you hesitate abont saying that you don't love me, because you don't desire to hurt my feelings"
 "Ah, Ned, don't talk that way" said the poor, distracted girl. Every word of yours Is like a da2ger-thrust to my heart. Did you but know all, and could you but read my inmost thoughts, you would be the very Inst in the world to judge me hastily"
 "Alas I only know that you do not love me, Edith," sad Ned Newcomb. "Well, be 1t so. It Is not your fault nor is it mine that I love you so dearly. ] shall try to bear the blow, but it is hard, Edith. It is hard, my dear girl, to love with such intensity as mine when it can not be returned. Yet sha'nt be selfish, or churlish, or mean about it, if I can, and if ever you need my services, why, command me, and l will serve you just as chcerfully as if you had said to mo, Ned, love you with all my heart.' should be selfish and cowardly, indeed, if could do otherwise. And now good. by! Pardon me for having mentioned this foolish matter to you, but I couldn't help it. lass, indeed I could not"
 Ned Newcomb rose to leave, and reached out his hand. Edith's head was averted, for she had been trying to hide the tears that came faster than she could control, while her lover was pouring forth the sorrow of his keen and bitter disappointment. Now she realized that he was about to go away, perhaps for ever, and it pnined her to the heart to think of it.
 "Ned, Ned, don't leave me in that way" she sobbed. "I cannot bear to have you go away in such manner. did not think it would make you feel so bad, even if I could not say love you and oh am at a loss what to do."
 "Do what your heart dictates, Edith," he replied. Have courage to say plain. ly that you don't love me, if such is the you for it."
 "ButI cannot say such thing, Ned ;Ican. not say it, for it would be false," she ex. claimed.
 "Then you do love mel" he cried, clasping her in his arms. "Thank God! Oh Edith, how happy you have made me, for now know you will promise that some day you will be my own little wife-my own Edith"
 "Ah, Ned, I wish could make you that promise, but such promise cannot be. can never be your wife, fear"
 "And you love me?
 "With all my heart and soul"
 Their lips met in the ecstasy of pure kiss, which, notwithstanding Edith's words, filled Ned Newcomb's heart with hope.
 "Tis heaven to know that am loved, Edith, and by you; but I do not under stand why you say you can never be my wife. Why can you not make me such promise?"
 "Don't ask me. I cannot, dare not, trust myself to tell you now"
 "Iknow," he said. "It is because of your deep devotion to your father. We'll, admire you for it, but 1t Is not sufficient to cause you to say that, although you love me, you will never be my wife. I can wait. Edith, five, ten, aye, for twen- ty years, if you say so, only do not bid me despair altogether. Tell me, is 1t be- cause you fell that you ought to devote your life like q loving daughter to an af. flicted fathers care, that you insist on saying that you can never be my wife7"
 ''It Is not that, Ned; it is not that, but because"
 Because you are pledged to another?" he said, eagerly. "Is it, Edith? Is it that which holds you back, and prevents you from following your heart? Can it be that you have given your hand some wher ethat your heart could never go? Tell me- is it SO? and shall never speak to you of love again."
 His earnestncss terrified her and almost robbed her of the power of speech. His passionate words half chiding, half pro- phetic, cut her to the heart, andshe was on the point of tellug hlm all when she suddenly conceived the idea that were he to know he would pity and despise her forever, and she could not bear to think of that. At last she said:
 "You wrong me; indeed you do, Ned. cannot tell you now what has shaped my decision; but I am not so unworthy as to give my hand where my heart could never go.'
  mystery back of Edith's words, and he would gladly fathom it then and there were such thing possible. He hesita- ted how to act, and wondered what was best to doiand say1under the circum- and at.the same time do and say what was right and rational. There are not many men who can pause to think in such crisis. To most of us the sweet ordeal of making declaration of love is bound up with many awkward entangle- ments of the head and the heart. The tongue, that ought to be more eloquent than ever before, almost forgets its of Ace; the brain, that ought to be at its coolest in deciding matter so momen- tous-for life or death-invariably burns, and the pulses that ought to move in measured cadence are generally in a tumult Ned Newcomb was no excep. tion to the sons of men in this respect, but he was man of fine control of self, and when he saw this lovely girl swayed by emotion and smitten by some sinister thought that seemed to hold her from his