The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1893-08-16

me. 1 knew cOuiQ mol FCEoTs.III lily
tears much longer, and when the tor
rent burst wished to be alone.
entered my room, and, turning the
lock, threw myself down on the bed and
let my grief have full sway. And, oh.
what hot, bitter tears shedl How
poignant and cruel were the pains THAI
tore my heart, decorating it to the cess-
ter, and draining it of hope, joy, and
life. | had received the cruelcst blow
of my life, and l suffered such pangs as
had never experienced before. The
beatings / had received at my fathers
hands were light in comparison; and
even the dreadful suffering | passed
through when my stepmother held my
face in the flames was nothing 10 the
agony that tortured we now.
Reader, loved viii Hanlcy with all
the power and the ardor of my soul.
had loved him above all of mankind
from the day first knew him, but now
] loved him thousandfold more than |
ever had before or during his absence.
had seen him again and my love had
rushed forth to meet him. The sight
of his face, the look into his eyes, the
sound of his voice had enthralled my
being, and bound my heart in the
strongest bonds of slavery. loved Win
Hanley madly.
felt | should never recover from such
grief as had fallen to me. felt that to
love as did and not be loved in return
would be sufficient sorrow to blast my
life, and yet how much harder to bear
was the knowledge that Will Hanley
did not even so much as cherish me as
friend. How much heavier my disap-
pointment because I knew he turned
from me coldly, giving me no sign of
recognition. Perhaps my disappoint-
ment might have been less heavy had
his conduct not been so foreign to his
nature as had known him. In him |
had expected only gentle sympathy and
kindness and had never dreamed that
he could turn from me so unfeelinGly as
he had.
AS | lay in my room that afternoon
weeping my very heart out, recalled
all the little incidents of my life with
which VIII Hanley was connected.
remembered how he used to praise my
hair and my features, ard how, a, han.
bred times, he soothed my soirows and
stilled my aching heart with. words of
sympathy. | recalled, too, The time
when he came INTO my room AMI looked
into my scared and blistcrel, face, and
/ remembered well how his yes spoke
a,deeper pity than words could cypress.
I recalled every gentle word, every ten
der look. every generous net Aed
known from him: and / ccntrs stea it
all with the present, and in my anguish
of soul l cried out:
''How can it be? All, how can Il,
how can it be? How can he have
changed so much? How can he have
forgotten all of those old days, and
dropped me out of his heart SO COM
plctely?"
My sad thoughts were interrupted by
a knocking at the door. 1t was Mrs.
Bond who sought admission, was sure,
and did not want her presence then,
so | made no answer. She could not
soothe nor advise me, and was too
sore to be probed with prying ques-
tions. / wanted her to go away and
leave me alone. wished for no one then
but Mrs. Cornell. To her l would have
opened quickly and eagerly, and, pillow
ing my head on her bosom, l would
have poured out all my grief, and found
comfort and solace in her words and
caresses. wanted mothers love and
sympathy, and in all the wide world
there was no one to whom | could look
for it save Mrs. Cornell.
Mrs. Bond continued to rap on my
door for sometime, but eliciting no re-
ply, at last called my name. did not
answer, and she called again. She
continued to call, pitching her voice
higher each time, and finally saw that
unless l admitted her she would have
all the occupants of the house aroused,
and a scene would be the outcome. So
made an effort to check my tears and
calm myself and then went to the door.
My landlady scrutinized me searchingly
!
exclaimed:
"Well, the land sake, girl, whatever
on earth is the matter of you? What
has happened to you, want to know"
Nothing" l answered. 81 am not
well, and want to be alone"
AS spoke endeavored to close the
door, but Mrs. Bond edged herself in
and prevented me.
''Nothin'" she repeated, shrilly.
"Well, it may be nothin', but my opin-
ion is it's mighty serious nothin'.
Why" she cried suddenly, you've been
crying. On my life, you have. Now,
/ know something is the matter besides
not being well, and l want to know
what it is"
at is nothing that could be of any
interest to you, Mrs. Bond" Ireplied.
you're mistaken, Miss Owens. Any
thing that happens in this house is of
interest to me. and anything that con-
Germs one of the dodgers here concerns
me-"
She paused q moment, then con-
tinued. Miss Owens" she said, per-
suasively, You have met a great
trouble and are unhappy. Tell me what
it is, won't you?"
81 cannot" replied, with difficulty
keeping back the tears that would well
up to my eyes in spite of all l could do
to prevent them. MY trouble can be
of no interest to you, and l prefer not to
be questioned"