Newspapers / Masonic Journal (Greensboro, N.C.) / Feb. 17, 1876, edition 1 / Page 1
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IvXSSSS Eet?r Ik JSl. pc^ VOL T. GLEENSBORO, N. C., THURSDAY, EEBRUARY 17,1876 NO 2 3 SP4 -1 ’OETRY. The Cross Roads. Wher' /ho roads crossed wc met, 'Jy love and T; III tii'‘ n- ar imy the ships Toss' d lieavil}'. Lamps were gone out on earth, B::t those in heaveti Trembled, for two more hearts Th.at God liatli riven. His accent.^ broke the pause — My tongue was t ic'd; He found last words to say— My s:)h replied. T.beii lie drew my white face Ui) to Mie light, And said .* ‘‘Farewell, poor love ! Dear love, good niglit!” At the cro.«s-roads we kissed— I stood alone. His w ly tlie seaward road, 3Iine led me home. He called, “I shall return !” i knew, “not so Not one 111 ten returns Of tiiosj that go Dr-ary tlie great world grew, And the vsun cold : So young, an hour ago, 1 iiad grown old. Our G*)d made me for him ; We loved each other ; Yet t«t(‘ gave him one road, All ! me another. Found Wanting. Sy!vie Wintringliam looked pleading ly into the handsome face that was bent so earnestly toward her—-a dark, queenly face, with eyes that made one think of a Jewish princess, and hair as black as midnight skies. “And you love him—you are sure, Sylvie ? because, if you are, I never shall lay a straw in your Woy. You know that, darling?’’ Minam Lester laid her hand caressing ly on the girl’s golden hair, and smiled tenderly into the eager, upturned face, with its shy, proud blue eyes—blue as a violet petal, that were all aglow with the first love of her pure young life. “You are always so good, Miriam; you are more like a mother to me than a half-sister, and I know perfectly well you will be as happy as I—if—if I marry Mr. Seville.” “Has it come to that dear? Has Mr, Seville made you an offer of marriage ?” “It was only a few weeks ago, Miriam, that he—he—told me that he would like to have me for his little—wife before he went to Long Branch.” “And you are sure of your own heart, Sylvie ?” “Why do you ask me, Miriam? Is it because you think I am too young to know what I feel ? or because you think my lover’s handsome face has only fasci nated me ? ’ “Oh, no, neither of these are my rea sons. Frankly, I have heard Mr. Seville is a notorious lady’s man, and had made his boasts that he would only many an heiress. I wouldn’t have him break your heart, my dirling.” “It i.s too bad that any one should say that of him ! He loves me for myself, I am sure, and not because I am an heir ess.” “Well, little si.ster, I only hope it will be all right. When he comes back again, I will see him, and I may be more favor ably impressed by a personal acquaint ance than I have been by report. He writes Sylvie?” “Oh, yes, twice every week—such lovely letters. Miriam, you never would doubt him if you could only read his lovely letters.” “If I was going to Long Branch instead of Saratoga, I might meet him. As it is, I may have to be patient a little longer. You have never mentioned me to him have you ?" “Often and often. Why, lie knows that I love my beautiful Miriam above all people.” “Then he only knows I arn your sister Miriam? He has never heard that I am Miss Lester ?” “I think not. It never occured to me ; you are not hurt, dear, that—” “Hurt with yoM.? Never! Only I hope this handsome Mr. Seville will have no power to cause you to feel wounded. Listen, Sylvie—isn’t that Maud Myers’, voice inquiring for you ?” A fortnight after this. Miss Lester’s trunks, plainly marked with her full name, and labled Saratoga, left the man sion on Madison avenue; an hour lat'.r. Miss Lester drove after them to the Grand Central Depot, where, instead of purchasing a ticket foi the Springs, she ordered her baggage re-marked for Long Branch, and saw them off on an express truck, en route for the 1:45 boat, while she was driven to the pier in a hired coupe, her own carriage having been ordered home before she had made any alterations in her plans. She leaned back among the cushions, with a half amused, hall- pitiful smile upon her face. “I feel so sure it is only my little Syl vie’s money he is after, and I shall bring to hear the strongest tests upon his loyal ty. If he loves her nothing can tempt him. If he does not—poo? little trust ing girl! It is her first love, and the soars of battle, if lost, will take a long time to wear off. But better the brief bitterness now if bitterness there is to be —than a life of misery.” It was shortly before dusk—one of the most perfect evenings there had been at the seaside that season—and dozens of elabor.ately dressed ladies were prome nading the long piazzas of the Ocean House, or sitting in picturesque group ings in the chairs, watching the continu ous tide of fashion and elegance that surged by. Just in front of the entrance to the hotel an elegant barouche was in waiting-^coachman and footman in olive green livery, and a span of coal-black horses, in gold plated harness, impatient ly pawing and champing, tossing their beautiful heads, and throwing flecks of snowy foam over their glossy bre-asts. An elderly lady was sitting within, apparently waiting for some one. And in a second. Miriam Lester, in a faultless carnage costume, followed by her French maid, carrying her parasol and fan, came through the entrance and entered the carriage. Among the group of gentlemen loun gers one watched her eagerly, then turn ing to some one at his elbow ; “Who is that magnificent woman ? I never saw such a walk, such a figure, in my life.” “Take care, Seville; you're the twelfth man that has asked that question since the divinity arrived last night. Eemem- ber the golden haired little girl of last winter, and then don’t have eyes for any body else.” “Just drop that. Lane ! As if because a fellow’s promised to a lilly he has no right to enjoy the rose.” “By which I am to understand you intend to cultivate an acquaintance with Miss Lester?” “So she is Miss Lester, is she; the inti mate friend of Mrs. Secretary Elworth ? The Miss Lester I've heard of, I think, before. Why, Lane, a fellow would be au idiot not to cultivate her—she’s a a tremendous heiress, and—such a mag- nifiicent creature.” “What a deuced lucky thing it is that I’m on calling terms with Mrs. Elworth. I shan t be slow in pr.ying mv devoirs in that direction, mind you.” “For Miss Lester’s especial bonefit? Well, Eolf, it’s to be expected she’ll auo- comb all the women do, it seems, to you.” “If they will, they will. Lane; and I don't see how I can help it. Indeed, a portion of my creed is—‘take all the goods the gods give.' ” And asithese two gentlemen sauntered along from the “Ocean House” to the West End, Miss Lester was leaning back among the olive-green cushions of Mrs. El worth’s barouche—as picturesque and queenly as ever a proud, beautiful woman could be. “Who was that fine-looking gentleman in a white cloth suit, who stood by the office door as I came out, Mrs. Elworth? Did you observe him?” “Mr. Seville, I think, A gentleman with blonde hair, and long side-whiskers, no mustache ?” “The very one. I thought as much.” Miriam returned, quietly, and nothing more was said on the subject. Two days later Eolf Seville bowed low over Miriam Lester’s hand, in Mrs. El- worth’s drawing room, with a registered vow in his heart. “I’ll win her by Jove, engagement or no engagement. While Miriam, laughing and chatting with bewitching loveliness and archness, thought—■ “Now, my fine fellow, we’ll see of what sort of stuff you are made 1” The brilliant season at Long Branch was passing, day by day, into only a ten der memory of the past. Many had gone to their homes. It had been an eventful summer for more than one fair girl, had come to the crisis of her life beside those restless waves. Hearts had been broken; the happiness of many lives assured ; hopes verified, fears realized; while to some who lingered still, the problem of their fate was still unsolved. Perhaps it was that they were waiting for—at least it was that EolfSeville tarried for, so long as Miriam Lester staid. They two had become very intimate during those four weeks of sea-aide sum mering, Mr. Seville had left no stone unturned to capture the heiress and beauty, while Miriam had used all her powers of fascination for his benefit. And the issue was fast approaching— just on their heels, as they sauntered leisurely on the sands one bright Septem ber morning. “I fear vou are a sad fellow, Mr. Se ville. Positively, that is the second let- tei I’ve seen you receive this week, ad dressed in the same pretty hand.” “Merely a child’s letter, I assure you, Miss Lester.” “But a very charming child, I am told, whom you intend to honor with your name some day. Miss Sylvie Wintring- ham, isn’t it ?” “From Miss Wintringham, I’ll admit. That I am engaged to her is a positive untruth. I am too deeply interested in another quarter.” Miriam averted her face, and thought fully traced lines on the sand with her parasol. “I have seen Miss Wintringham —she is a sweet girl, Mr Seville.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Yes— sweet. But one tires occasionally of sweetness alone. One longs for spice. A man’s fancy may be attracted b'- a pretty face and cunning ways, but. Miss Lester, it is such a woman as yourself that take a man’s heart by storm, that makes him feel life a defeat unles fair- hands like those crown him victor. Miss Lester—will you complete my life ? will you love me as I love you? I worship you—my beautiful, beautiful darling, with all the ardor of a mature man. Am I to be so blessed ?’’ A pale pain crept over 'her splendid face—paiu for Sylvie's sake. Then, a torrent of indignation, a touch ot tri umph in her voice as she answered him. “If you were any other man than Eolf Seville, I would thank for the high honor done me, even while I declined your ofl'ef. As it is, I simply despise you, and know you to be what I thought you were —what I have insisted upon to iny aear little sister—my poor, wronged Sylvie. Shall I convey your withdrawal of your suit to Miss ’\Vintringham, or will y ou, on my authority, accept your release from her Of course, it was hard on little Sylvie, but she had good common sense, and Miriam comforted'her, and to day she is quite content. i
Masonic Journal (Greensboro, N.C.)
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Feb. 17, 1876, edition 1
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