The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 02, No. 10, August, 1858 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 307 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 02, No. 10, August, 1858.

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 02, No. 10, August, 1858 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 307 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 02, No. 10, August, 1858.

“I answered,—­’Your friend can best explain what she means.’

“Then out came the secret.  A shock of surprise sent the color from Margaret’s face; and raising her eyes, she asked, quite calmly, but in a low and unnatural tone,—­

“‘Is this so?’

“I said, ‘I suppose I cannot deny it.’

“‘You are really going?’

“‘I am really going.’

“She could not hide her agitation.  Her white face betrayed her.  Then I was glad, wickedly glad, in my heart,—­and vain enough to be gratified that others should behold and know I held a power over her.  Well,—­but I suffered for that folly.

“‘I feel hurt,’ she said, after a little while, ’because you have not told me this.  You have no sister,’ (this was spoken very quietly,) ’and it would have been a privilege for me to take a sister’s place, and do for you those little things which sisters do for brothers who are going on long journeys.’

“I was choked;—­it was a minute before I could speak.  Then I said that I saw no reason why she should tax her time or thoughts to do anything for me.

“‘Oh, you know,’ she said, ’you have been kind to me,—­so much kinder than I have deserved!’

“It was unendurable,—­the pathos of the words!  I was blinded, stifled,—­I almost groaned aloud.  If we had been alone, there our trial would have ended.  I should have snatched her to my soul.  But the eyes of others were upon us, and I steeled myself.

“‘Besides,’ I said, ‘I know of nothing that you can do for me.’

“’There must be many little things;—­to begin with, there is your glove, which you are tearing to pieces.’

“True, I was tearing my glove,—­she was calm enough to observe it!  That made me angry.

“’Give it to me; I will mend it for you.  Haven’t you other gloves that need mending?’

“I, who had triumphed, was humbled.

“My heart was breaking,—­and she talked of mending gloves!  I did not omit to thank her.  I coldly arose to go.

“Well, I felt now that it was all over.  The next day I secured my passage in the steamer in which my friends were to sail.  I took pains that Margaret should hear of that, too.  Then came the preparations for travel,—­arranging affairs, writing letters, providing myself with a compact and comfortable outfit.  Europe was in prospect,—­Paris, Switzerland, Italy, lands to which my dreams had long since gone before me, and to which I now turned my eyes with reawakening aspirations.  A new glory arose upon my life, in the light of which Margaret became a fading star.  It was so much easier than I had thought, to give her up, to part from her!  I found that I could forget her, in the excitement of a fresh and novel experience; while she—­could she forget me?  When lovers part, happy is he who goes! alas for the one that is left behind!

“One day, when I was busy with the books which I was to take with me, a small package was handed in.  I need not tell you that I experienced a thrill, when I saw Margaret’s handwriting upon the wrapper.  I tore it open,—­and what think you I found?  My glove!  Nothing else.  I smiled bitterly, to see how neatly she had mended it; then I sighed; then I said, ‘It is finished!’ and tossed the glove disdainfully into my trunk.

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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 02, No. 10, August, 1858 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.