90
��LOUISA'S DELUSION.
��treated you shamefully;" she pleaded, half frightened at the words she was say- ing, "I have wanted to tell you how I felt for a long time, hut it seemed so cruel I could not say it, and I kept hoping the prospect would seem different to me, but now I know it never will."
"I have seen how it would be for a long time," he said, a half sullen look overshadowing the genuine pain in his face." "I wish now that we had been married two years ago, before you had ever been away from here."
"Sometimes I wish so, too, for that would have ended all the doubt and un- certainty; but still how unhappy we should both have been if I had regretted it. No, it is better as it is, and by and by you will marry some good girl who will be happy living at the Mills, and who will be very fond of you, and that will be much pleasanter than trying to please such an uncomfortable, unstable being as I am," said Louisa, trying to speak lightly, though tears stood in her eyes and choked her voice.
'"You don't know how much you have been to me all these years, Louisa, else you could never speak like that. I have nothing to live for now, and I don't care what becomes of me. I mean to lead a reckless life, gamble or do anything I please, and enjoy myself the best I can."
Despite her sorrrow, Louisa could not resist a smile at the idea of phlegmatic John Andrews plunging into dissipation, but she only said gently, "O, no, you will make matters worse by doing any such foolish thing as that; but it is get- ting late, so I will say good bye. I did not tell you that I have answered an ad- vertisement for waiters at Golden Beach ; all the arrangements are made and I am going next week. Let us part friends ; you are not angry with me?"
"No," he said, slowly rising to his feet, and taking the slender brown hand she held out to him, "and until you marry Some one else I shall think you will some time marry me. You won't take that hope away from me. There is no one else in my way, is there?"
"No one, John." And then they said good by, with tears on both the young faces, and went their separate ways home.
��That night, and for many subsequent nights, Louisa's pillow was wet with tears. Since she was thirteen, it had been considered settled in the two fami- lies that she should marry John Andrews on her twentieth birthday. He was a great favorite with her parents, both on account of his father's wealth and his steady, industrious habits. To them, it seemed a grand triumph that the only son of the richest man in the county, who might have his choice of a wife for miles around, should choose their daughter, who could bring him nothing but her own bright self. If they had known what Louisa was suffering and had suffered for months past, they would have considered her a fit inmate for an insane asylum. They could not understand the utter dis- similarity of temperament between the two; and she dreaded the upbraidings that would be showered upon her when they learned the course she had taken. But still harder to bear than that was the feeling of uncertainty as to the right of her conduct. Her mother had assured her that her doubts and fears were only natural and that once married, she would laugh at her foolish fancies. She had tried to believe this at first, but the feel- ing of repugnance at her marriage had grown stronger, till, in her passionate moods, death even would have seemed a relief. She pitied John, for she knew he loved her truly and well, but his threat of future wickedness did not trouble her. With keen perception of his character, she felt sure his grief would be of shorter duration than her own. She felt shame and mortification as she thought of the sneers and ill-natured remarks of which she would be the recipient, and clamor- ing conscience tormented her till she felt herself a very criminal. One drop of comfort she found, however. Her sister Elizabeth talked sensibly and encourag- ingly to her. "Not many girls would have had the courage to do as you have done. You know how people will talk, and father and mother will be furious. Of course, I should be glad to have you marry such a good man as John is, but you could never be happy with him feel- ing as you do, and you,have alone right to break it off."
�� �
