Year: 1862




1t Was delightful to be greeted so glad
!, ly by her, when entered the hotel par
lor, to have her come forward from the
} lonely seat where she had been waiting
not unobserved or unnoticed, to receive
me-to have her hang ON my little ad
ventures alone, (how long it seemed to
mel while every word, look and smile
seemed doubly dear to me because
knew the precarious tenure by which
held my right to them. She busted her.
self. too. while | was anua ont. with onr
JOINT baggage, and rummagIng oil over
her trunks to find box which l had
expressed desire to see. She mended
my gloves, sewed the band on my trav.
elling cap, and found my cigar case
whenever | had lost it, which was about
twenty times day, while she scolded
me for the carelessness which she de-
clared almost equal to her own. Long
ago she had given over into my posses.
sion her elegant little portmouaie, with
all the money in it, which she was sure,
she would lose, as she could never keep
anything, aud she had ordered me to
take out what she wanted for travelling
expenses, opened it with troubling
hands when | was alone and examined
tho contents. There were, besides all
the bank bills with which she had prob.
ably been furnished for the journey, and
which, with pous care, she had packed
into the smallest possible compass, as
much gold as her pretty toy could carry,
a tiny pearl ring too small to fit any
fingers but hers-which, | am afraid |
kissed-a card with her name on it, and
a memorandum in pretty hand, No
Olive street, ST. Louis, which as right.
ly conjectured, was the residence of her
cousin Jennie, whose husband | was: a
very fortunate discovery for me. In.
deed thus far, had not found the way
of the transgressor hard, in external cir.
cumstancs, at least; and when with her
| forgot everything but her grace and
beauty, and my firm resolution to be
more to her than her cousin should be:
bu; out of that charmed presence my
conscience made me miserable


| am afraid l must sometimes have
betrayed the conflicts OF feeling l had,
by my manner; but when was reserved



resented it, and begged me bewitchingly
not to treat her so, and to call her by
her sweet name Florence, that had [
dared as much as longed TO d., could
not have refused her. But the con-
sciousness that was not what she tho't
me, but an impostor, of whom, after our
connection had ceased, and she had dis
covered the deception practiced upon
her, she could think or remember moth
ing that would not cause unmerited self.
reproach and modification, all innocent
and trusting rs she was, this reflection,
more than any other, confess, and the
knowledge of the estimation in which
she would forever hold me after my i'm.
position was discovered, agonized me,
and would have given all | possessed
to own her and leave her sight at once,
though the thought of seeing her no
more was dreadful. But that could not
be.


At last we reached st. Louis. Do /
say ut last? Whom the sight of those
spires and gables warned me that my
brief dream of happiness was over, and
that the rcInorseful reflections | had
been staving Off so long, were now to
commence in earnest, the thought of the
coming banishment from Florence was
dreadful to me, AMI the time seemed to
fly OH lightning wings as it drew near.
she was all gaiety and was astonished
at my sadness and absence of mind
when 80 near home, and Jennie, and
when we entered the carriage that was
20 convey us to our destination, l had
half mind to take cowardly flight
Rather than encounter the scorn and dis.
appointment of those blue eyes; hut
mustered courage and followed her in
giving the address found ia the port.
monaie, which fortunately was the right
one to the driver.


almost homer said she, turning her
bright face towards me-we were rat
thing up the street and my time was
short-'hoy can you be so cold and
quiet?'


Because, Miss Florence answered,
confess to you that have no more right
in the house tn which we are hastenine
than to the name by which you address
me, and that my claim to either, is that
of an imposter and deceiver'


She turned her lovely face, wondering
and puzzled towards me.


Thank heaven did not read fear aud
aversion in it.


NO right no cla'mr she repeated;--
what can yCu meanp


told her frankly, and fully, the whole
truth, nearly as | have set it down here,
denying nothing, and concealng nothing,
not even the useless secret OF my love
for her. Wnen the brief recital was
ended, we both remained silent, but al.
though she had hidden her face, could
see that she trembled violently with
shame and repulsion. The shight of
her distress was agony to me, and
tried to say few words of apology.


You cannot blame or hate me, Miss
Dundard, more than hate AMI blame
myself | said, 'for the distress | have
SO unwilingly caused you-Heaven
knows that it accepted the charge of 80
much innocence and beauty too lightly
atooed have since i'm having accustomed