Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1897-07-31
The Storu Teller.
ssNUMBER TWO.''
THE END OF A ROMANCE.

"And you are really married ?" I say.
I have been away from my native
village for few years, and now that
have returned find that many chan
ges have taken place during my ab-
sence. Some of the old faces are gone
forever; children have sprung up into
young men and women, and the old
ACQUAINTANCE before me has changed
from maid to matron.
"Yes, I'm married." she answers,
complacently.
"And not to Sam ?" I 60 on, with a
good deal of astonishment in my
tone.
"Not to Sam" she replies, as COM
placently as before. "To a man as is
worth 20 O. Samr
"That is satisfactory" I laugh.
"But do tell me all about it. l am
really dying to hear"
"Well, come an sit down, an make
yourself comfortable" remarks Mrs.
Walgrove. ,
She leads the way into her best
parlor, seats me in state in one OF the
old-fashioned, hair-seated easy chairs,
reaches me glass of homemade wine
for my refreshment, then looks at me
rather iuquiringly, as if waiting for a
"lead."
"I was never more surprised than
when father told me you had married
John WalgroveW I exclaim. "You
had been engaged to Sam Hemsley 80
long"
"Eighteen years !" says Mrs. Wal.
grove, grimly. can if l would ha'
been, miss, I might ha' been engaged
to him forever"
Eighteen years! What length OF
time!" I calculate.
"Yes. I was % when Sam asked
me to marry him, an I waited for him
till was 40. An if I'd waited till L
was 100, I should ha' been no nearer
marryin'."
"What a queer thing!" I remark.
"Whatever could have been the rea-
SOM"
"Well," returns Mrs. Walgrove,
"when Sam proposed to me he was
living at home with his father, mother
and sister. Before very long, the faith
er died, an the three of 'em were left:
There was o comfortable home an
business, an the long an short of it
was, miss, that his mother an sister
didn't want Sam to marry. They
knew that his marriage would mean a
move for them, and they meant to stay
where they were. Of course, if Pol
ly-the sister-had happened to pick
up a Young man, all might ha' been
very different. But she never did, an
small wonder, for of all the sour-faced
creatures I ever came across, she was
the capper." ,
"But if Sam had really determined
to be married ?" I venture.
"Determined !" repeats Mrs. Wal
grove, with fine contempt. "Bless
you; he'd got no determination about
him, an if ever man was under pet
ticoat government, he was the one.
He hadn't got pluck enough to say his
soul was his own"
"How was it you let the engage
ment 90 on so long?" 1 ask, for in
truth this is a question which had Of
ten puzzled me. The long courtship
had for years been standing joke in
the village. Such a thing is generally
regarded as a farce by onlookers,
though it may be veritable tragedy
to the woman who feels her youth
slipping from her, and behold's life's
sweetest hopes departing.
"Well, answers Mrs. Walgrove,
slowly, I'm bound to confess l liked
him, an of course I kept thinkin'
every year would bring a change.
When we were first engaged my par
ents and sister were livin'. First OF
all my father died, then my sister.
For some years mother an lived to.
gether; then she was taken. Now, |
thought, Sam will surely take matters
in hand. He will never let me live
here alone.
An 1 think it was his leavin' me in
that desolate house that first began
to change my feelin's towards hlih
There was nothing in the world to
hinder our bein' married. His busi
ness was doin' well, an had got o
nice little bit O. money of my own
But in spite of that, he seemed in nc
bigger hurry than he had been year;
before, an 1 began to get heart-sick.
For, you know, miss, Sam was moi
the only man who wanted me. There
had been others, an one in particular
who had asked me over an over again
But I had said "No,"-through my
promise to Sam-an' I began to fee
that he had defrauded me out O. the
home an love that might ha' beer
mine.
He didn't come to see me very often
though, as you know, the two house:
don't lie much more than half a mile
apart. They do say, miss, that you
can court all tie love away, an l think
it got to be so in our case. He'd
come in, an he'd say, "Well, Janet
how are you tonight?" in matter-of
fact sort O. way. Then he'd sit an
talk about the news of the village
an so on; an after a while go home
again, without ever givin' me one rea