Year: 1859

rent, as she had; but mine was q mother T,


my mother l wrote about my engagement


foolish, fervid letters, which made the affail


look more boyishly romantic than it really was


However, the engagement was made, and TO il


she aceeded prefOrce, giving her consent in cold
= and sarcastic phrases, and limiting vaguely al


cunning destinations and artful entrapments. 3
r told Margaret nothing of this


e The time had come when was TO leave
t Ventnor for Cambridge. walked with Daisy


to our fist trystng place for the last time. She
was grave and sad, and then broke out into one
OF her old hts of misery, which l had not heard
Tor a long time. She threw herself on the grass,
and hid her little face on her knees. She fore


boded all kinds of evil We should never see
each other any more; she should die; l should
cease to love her. She ended with childish


sobs as if her heart would break Istroked her
luxuriant hair, and chided and soothed her


Then she seated herself quietly at my feet, and


after long silence began to speculate dream


lngly on what we should do during the separa-


ton. We were to think of each other at a GER
tam time every day; we were always to think
OF each other at night before we went to sleep,
and so to try to dream of each other.


She was sure she would know if | were i'll;
she would feel happy when 1 was happy, sad
when was sad Supposing she was to die
suddenly, would it be possible for her to come
to me to say good-by or to summon me to her
death-bed! If either of US died, would it be
possible for the dead to come and see the living
to make its presence known Ito appear visibly
as it used to be in the flesh! Agreements had
been made between dear friends that the one
who died first should come from the future |
world and visit the other: would l make this |
agreement with herr She was pertinacous on |
this point; she would have this agreement made |
10 satisfy her l acceded, and ratified the prom
ise with kiss. This seemed to comfort her,
and scolded her for her foolishness. It had |
been arranged that she was to come and stay
with my mother during the Christmas vacation.


Daisy came to us at Christmas, and that
Christmas saw the end of our engagement It
is useless to detail all the petty words and do
lngs which led to this rupture. My mother is
dead (God rest her soul y and the wrong that
she did was done for love of me- She would
have been jealous ofany one whom loved bet
ter than herself-for whom meditated leaving
her; and to Daisy she had taken strong dislike
before she even saw her. They were the oppo-
sites of each other, and could no more sympa
thlze than fire could mingle with water.


our mother does not like me-" said nv
poor little betrothed to me continually, and
looked IN my face with her solemn eyes, and
read the truth there, though my lips evaded
1t. 1t was soon plain enough Greater fa-
miliarity emboldened my mothers tongue, and
cruel innuendos and relentless sarcasms be
came broader and broader day by day. Nv
mother is dead, (God rest her souI!j and 1 will
write no more of this, for cannot write for
glvlngly even now. One morning my darling
came to me, and said quietly, "You shall not
marry me-" and then she threw herself into
my arms and kissed me passionately, and she
was gone. stormed and ragged in vain. The
episode of my life was over o Daisyi Daisyl
if hearts do bleed-do, in their agony, wiring
forth bitter tears of blood-then my heart bled ]
when l lost you !


sowed plentiful crop of wild oats at Cam !
bridge, which bore their mingled produce of
good and ILL., When l came home after de- I
gree, for week before set off for Italy, 1 was
much more cynical and stoical than in the days
never ReId t7Ieif ri5n1r I1rvvr srI1rvrv,1
to think about them. (


On the last morning of my sojsum at home,
before my departure, l sat reading my letters
at the breakfast table-reading aloud a scrap
here and there which thought might interest
my mother Suddenly became silent, as in a
letter from college friend l came upon this
passage: "You remember old Lowther Did
you ever think it possible that that stolid Her
cules would find his Omphale! Yet none the
less found she is, and Hercules is a slave, and
only all his wealth will ransom him. He is
going to be married. The affair is to come off
Immediately. Omphale is not precisely
queen; in fact, is poor little devil of milli- b
ner, OF governess, or something of that sort; 1
her name was Mainwaring"


turned white. and gasped for breath. The |
old wound burnt like fire, and throbbed as if :
the cicatrice would break


"What is the matter!" said my mother.
"There is bad news"


All my eynicism rose to help me. "NOt at
all so," said "You remember little person
whom you never would call Daisy! Well the
said little person is about to be married to a
friend of mine. 1t is a good match. The
pearl is pearl of great price, and has sold it
self for fifteen thousand per annum."


Shame on me for that sentence; but all my
old jealousy had sprung up within me, more
acrid than it had ever been before.





Concluded tomorrow.