The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1898-01-12
HER FIRST LOVE.

o-O-ns EUNuuobb lHoi SnuAtco SdAeVhA
was married last night to Mercy Winterl
Well, WE'LL Will wonders never eeasef
Lucy, Lucyl / say, Charley Caxton, the
irresistible, as he terms himself, has at last
found some one to please his fancy" And
pretty Adele Sims, gathering her flounces
in her hand, grasped the letter that con-
tained the startling news and rushed down
tho steps to Cousin Lucy, who was gath
ering the fine Strawberries with which the
kitchen garden abounded.
At Adde'S exclamation Amy Earle sank
upon the doorstep, her pretty pink and
white face growing colorless.
"And-so-he-is married." she muir
INJURED, every word dropping from her lips
like deathknell.
"Whatl Do you know him? asked
Adele, facing around in establishment.
aye S, yes. You remember met him
at the seaside"
"Oh, but had no idea he was the Cax-
must finish my letter." And tho 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 Mr.. 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 l, laying aside my sewing
and stroking back her thick, golden hair
"let's walk toward tho village and meet
Uncle John. Who knows but there may
come something to cheer your heart in
the form Of letter"
"Oh, no, no! l have headache. Please
excuse mol" And she bent her dropping
head lower and lower.
"Well, you little oddity, hope no mas
culine darling is In store for me II love
has the same effect on me 1t has on some
people not a thousand miles away. But
come, come" And drawing her arm with
in my own moved toward the gate.
! always loved Amy Earle. At Nine.
DIS pensionaire the girls all had a "dar-
ling" 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
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, placed my
arm around her waist and her little gold
en- head dropped upon my shoulder.
Amy, love, what grieves your have
long wanted to know. Tell me, darling"
She blushed scarlet and locked at mo
beseechingly.
"What, Mlllie, have you noticed in my
conduct7'
"Oh, thousand times have watched
you until my heart ached for you"
"Oh, Millie, have been so miserable,
so wretched, so despairing, you can never
know. Last year first met Charley Cax-
ton. To know him was to love him. In
my heart said Involuntary, .Oh, If he
could only love mel He was rich man,
poor orphan girl. Altar off adored-
nay, worshiped-him,a and, oh, Mile, what
a thrill Of thankfulness entered my soul
when found that love returned All, I
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 Inc his story. His life hos
been spent In foreign lands. He told mo
Of his restless ambition-how he had
toilcd up Parnassus heights and of his
longing for quiet and home, and was his
81 r 20 hn
wife. A blessed sense Of peace and secur-
lty came over me, and was happy. Time
lew by on golden wings, and we parted,
rs thought, for brief time, with every
renewed promise Of affection. Day after
day passed, and he neither came nor sent
grew restless, miserable, sick. Perhaps
he was ill; 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.
grew thinner and paler every day and
moved like shadow about the house. At |
last, forgetting woman's pride, wrote to
hin, pleading for him to come for me,
snd"- For 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
his scrap of paper were the bitter end Of
III had dreamed of happinessS"
She drew from her bosom small note, !
written, and l read:
MY DEAR Miss EARLE-You surely did not
ttGch any serious thoughts to our recent |
title Irritation. If SO. deeply regret it, as |
81, 10 h., .,a,l Al,
CHARLES CANTON.
"Amy Earle, surely you could not grieve
or the author of that letter, who at once
,roves himself wanting in those qualities
hat render his sex worthy the attention
VI oursP He is not worth q tear from those
,lue eyes
"Oh, Millie, It came so sudden! 1t was
UGH bitter awakening. Oh, Millie,
;now you will despise mo when tell you
n spite of oil that could not realize it
Until I wrote again! Then for long time
forgot everything
"That was when you were SO Ill, love-"
drew the tiny form closer to me. "You
lavc forgotten it all now?'
YES Millie, if woman can entirely for
et her first love-"
"But Mr.. Thurston, Amy9"
"Ah, yes. Noble and true, he has re-
eemed the falscness of his sex. Harry
rhurston knows all, and says, Although
he heart may thrill and throb with first
1ve, yet that heart can love again.
A year passed happily away and again
70 are at Inglcsde.
1t was the sweet twilight of an August
We, the last echo Of Cousin Lucys melo-
ious voice had died and the closing word
t her song ceased to vibrate upon the ear.
my Thurston, lovely as ever, sat beside
er husband, whose eyes were fixed upon
er with that intensity and fondness that
poke at once the language of his soul.
.delc interrupted the silence by reading q
from an evening newspaper.
Died.-At his residence in B street Charles
axton, OF wounds received in drunken of.
ny.
I involuntnrily glanced at Amy, who,
rcssing her lips to her husbands fore
cad, murmllred, "Peaco to his ashes."-
incinnati Post,