The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1898-01-15


found some one to please his fancy" And
pretty Adele SIMS gathering her flounces
in her hand, grasped the letter that con-
tanned the startling news and rushed down
the steps to Cousin Lucy, who was gath
ering the fine strawberries with which the
kitchen garden abounded.
At Adele's exclamation Amy Earle sank
upon the doorstep, her pretty pink and
white face growing colorless.
--he-is-married, she MUIR
INJURED, every word dropping from her lips
like deathknell.
"What! Do you know him?' asked
Adele, facing around in establishment.
eyes, yes. You remember met him
at the seaside"
ooh, but had no idea he was the Cax-
ton all the girls we're raving about. But l
must finish my letter" And the merry
girl threw herself upon the grass, with
Lucy beside her.
Amy's face was partly in the shadow,
but could see she was neither thinking
OF nor looking at Adele. Her thoughts
were far away.
Amy was to be married in few weeks
to MIR. Thurston, young lawyer of great
promise. She often seemed sad and silent,
but | set it all down as natural conse-
quence of the step she was about to take.
Amy" said I, laying aside my sewing
and stroking back her thick, golden hair,
"lets walk toward the village and meet
Uncle John. Who knows but there may
come something to cheer your heart in
the form of letter.
"Oh, no, no! | have headache. Please
excuse me!' And sho bent her dropping
head lower and lower.
well, you little oddly, hope no mas
culine darling is in store for me if love
has the same effect on me it has on some
people not thousand miles away. But
come, GOMEZ And drawing her arm within
my own | moved toward the gate.
| always loved Amy Earle. At Nine.
DIS pensionaire the girls all had "iarl-
ing" and Amy was mine-my ideal of
goodness and amiability. The last year
she had spent away from me, and since
her return there seemed a sadness brood
ing over her young heart-a something l
could not understand-and her quiet, re-
served air forbade all inquiries.
We seated ourselves in an old summer
house, completely shaded by hanging vines,
and, schoolgirl fashion, l placed my arm
around her waist and her little golden
head dropped upon my shoulder
''Amy, love, what grieves you? l have
long wanted to know. Tell me- darling"
She blushed scarlet and look ed at me
beseechingly.
"What, Mile, have you noticed in my
conduct
SO, a thousand times | have watched
you until my heart ached for you"
ooh, Mile, l have been so miserable,
so wretched, so despairing, you can never
know. Last year l first met Charley Cax-
ton. To know him was to love him. In
my heart | said involuntarily, oh, if he
could only love me! He was rich man,
poor orphan girl. Afar off l adored-
nay, worshiped-him, and, oh, Mile, what
thrill of thankfulness entered my soul
when | found that love returned All, |
can never forget that night. We were
promenading the beach, and the moon,
just rising above the waters edge, threw
a flood OF light over land and sea. The
dreamy music the wind made and the
fresh, sweet smell OF the violets | wore
seemed just the influence needed to blend
our souls together. In his quiet, manly
way he told me his story. His life has
been spent in foreign lands. He told me
OF his restless ambition-h0w &C had
toiled up Parnassus heights and of his
longing for quiet and home, and was his
souls idol. | was to be his own little
wife. blessed sense of peace and secur-
ity came over me, and | was happy. Time
flew by on golden wings, and we parted,
as | thought, for brief time, with every
renewed promise of affection. Day after
day passed, and he neither came nor sent
l grew restless, miserable, sick. Perhaps
he was i'll; perhaps-and my heart almost
ceased to beat-perhaps he was dead
There never came one thought of his faith
lessness. My heart alternated between
hope and fear. Three weeks went away
and October came down silently upon us
l grew thinner and paler every day and
moved like a shadow about the house At
last, forgetting woman's pride, | wrote to
him, pleading for him to come for me,
and" For a few moments not word
escaped her lips; then, raising her face to
mine, she bitterly exclaimed, "Would YOU
believe, Mollie Bryson, that these lines on
this scrap of paper were the bitter end of
all had dreamed of happiness"
She drew from her bosom small note.
carelessly written, and | read:
My DEAR Miss EARLE-You SURELY did
not attach any serious thoughts to our re-
cent little Irritation. If So deeply regret
it, as am shortly to be married. With
respect, etc, CHARLES CANTON.
"Amy Earle, surely you could not grieve
ha anthem AZ That ,attar ,ubo -. o,..