The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1890-09-19

nel pliue anu MieCPiOu uOll y sec Dul |
lose no time and do your best
"These words put me into perfect
frenzy.
:" In less than an hour had started for
the low country. ] never spared either
my horse or myself, | rode night and
day, and at last reached Fayetteville one
stormy night long after dark.
Laura's home lay nearly days ride
further on, but my horse and his rider
were both worn out, and rest we must.
when | went to register my name
saw Laura's name written just above,
and upon inquiry found that she was ac-
companying her brother-in-law to Ten
nessee where they meant to make their fu-
ture home. ] at once sent a request that
she would see me, which was refused.
sent another more urgent entreaty, and
received another refusal.
81 then sent for the brother-in-law.
He came, very cold and stiff, resenting
what he called my treatment of his sister.
81 threw myself upon his mercy, l
told him the exact truth. | could not
explain how it happened that | never
| thought Of writing, but had never once
| thought of it. | loved her with all my
soul, and and had but one wish in life,
and that was that she should nay wife.
He was completely won over to my
side, and promised to use his influence in
my behalf He went off to see Laura,
and after a long time came back, very
much annoyed, and said:
60 can't do anything with her, She
will see you il you insist, but she would
much ralher be spared the pain of meet
ing you-and frankly, / don't think it
will do any good but you can try
&C. insisted on seeing her, would
have fought my way to her, for it was a
life and death matter to me.
"She came at once at the summons,
cold, pale, changed, like an ice image of
the lovely, tender, clinging young Great
ure from whom / had parted.
81 seized her hands and poured forth
my story of love and longing. She list
ened like statute; and when | paused
for reply, she only said;
81" Why did you not write to me2'
al don't know. II never thought
of it, | stammered awkwardly. y
! "'And yet you say you love me-! You
let four months of unbroken silence
stretch between you and the woman you
had promised to be your wife in so short
a time And YOU can only account for
such an unheard of thing by saying you
never thought about writing and still
you profess to love mel
GO do love you. have never ceased
to love you, or to think of you for one
Fl conscious moment.
"'And IL can not believe you! No
Stop! Hear me out. know love you
: know the thought of you ran like Wis
} ible thread through every moment of my
! life. | know how / hoped to hear from
you; how longed and agonized; how
, bitter was my disappointment; how deer
my hurt; how keen my humiliation az
days, weeks, months passed in utter 81
5 lence, and at last your name dropped int
silence. My friends, hurt and Indignant
{ for me, were yet too kind to add to my
a anguish by words or questions. And be
cause / know what love is / can not be
r lieve that you love me. l do not know
! why you have sought me and insisted OF
{ seeing mel only know that my faith il
you is dead, and | am worse than wild
g owed woman, for | have not even tn,
e memory Of love to comfort me-
She wrung her hands together one,
| with such hopeless gesture, and thel
: stood still before me.
!, had nothing to say. What could
say? I had urged my only plea in vain
A but at last ! said;
: 81 can not defend, explain, or excus,
4 my silence further than | have alread,
: done. / can only repeat before God a
s my witness that love you with all IN,
SOUL viii you not try TO believ
n me ?"
4 She looked at me with an agony Q
longing in her eyes. knew she wante
a to yield, and perhaps if | had dared t
d take her in my arms it might have bee
J. different; but waited in absolute silenc
g and at last she said:
y -" can not believe you. Let me 90
J. stood aside, and held the door ope
q for her to pass out, and she went OF
d without one backward glance. And in les
than five minutes | was in the saddle an
I ON the road home
+" But you tried again?"
!. emo, never did. l gave it up ther
n and then. If you had seen her face an
heard her voice you would have seen tn
!, uselessness of further effort. Father wa
It very kind to me, but died in few months
i and l went straight to the dogs. Idranl
swore, fought, gambled, ana was all tina
was rufiianly for ten straight years; the
d / sobered down and went to work an
> finished building my house, and here
% am. That was thirty years ago. hay
never courted any other woman,
e wished to put mistress in my hous,
10 l built it for Laura. II is hers, or n,
:. body's but mine"
~ And you love her still2n
love her as dearly to-day as l di
r when | first kissed her soft cheek und,
the great chestnut-tree yonder the ever
ID ing she promised to be my wife"
But, Uncle John, did he really 10y
. herr"
'. "0h, yes, dear; there is no doubt
r that. never saw a man show more gel
] uine emotion. Why, he walked the flo,
like a Gagged lion, and his face was
AZ White as q handkerchief. 1t was a cur