Heart-Histories and Life-Pictures | Page 3

tried not to see the one, nor hear the other. But that

was impossible. They had impressed themselves into the very
substance of his mind.
Edwin Florence had an engagement for that very evening. It was with
one of the most brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating women he had ever
met. A few months before, she had crossed his path, and from that time
he was changed towards Edith. Her name was Catharine Linmore. The
earnest attentions of Florence pleased her, and as she let the pleasure
she felt be seen, she was not long in winning his heart entirely from his
first love. In this, she was innocent; for she knew nothing of the former
state of his affections towards Edith.
After parting with Edith, Edwin had no heart to fulfill his engagement
with Miss Linmore. He could think of nothing but the maiden he had so
cruelly deserted; and more than half repented of what he had done.
When the hour for the appointment came, his mind struggled awhile in
the effort to obtain a consent to go, and then decided against meeting,
at least on that occasion, the woman whose charms had led him to do
so great a wrong to a loving and confiding heart. No excuse but that of
indisposition could be made, under the circumstances; and, attempting
to screen himself, in his own estimation, from falsehood, he assumed,
in his own thoughts, a mental indisposition, while, in the billet he
dispatched, he gave the idea of bodily indisposition. The night that
followed was, perhaps, the most unhappy one the young man had ever
spent. Days passed, and he heard nothing from Edith. He could not call
to see her, for she had interdicted that. Henceforth they must be as
strangers. The effect produced by his words had been far more painful
than was anticipated; and he felt troubled when he thought about what
might be their ultimate effects.
On the fifth day, as the young man was walking with Catharine
Linmore, he came suddenly face to face with Edith. There was a
change in her that startled him. She looked at him, in passing, but gave
no signs of recognition.
"Wasn't that Miss Walter?" inquired the companion of Edwin, in a tone
of surprise.

"Yes," replied Florence.
"What's the matter with her? Has she been sick? How dreadful she
looks!"
"I never saw her look so bad," remarked the young man. As they
walked along, Miss Linmore kept alluding to Edith, whose changed
appearance had excited her sympathies.
"I've met her only a few times," said she, "but I have seen enough of
her to give me a most exalted opinion of her character. Some one called
her very plain; but I have not thought so. There is something so good
about her, that you cannot be with her long without perceiving a real
beauty in the play of her countenance."
"No one can know her well, without loving her for the goodness of
which you have just spoken," said Edwin.
"You are intimate with her?"
"Yes. She has been long to me as a sister." There was a roughness in
the voice of Florence as he said this.
"She passed without recognizing you," said Miss Linmore.
"So I observed."
"And yet I noticed that she looked you in the face, though with a cold,
stony, absent look. It is strange! What can have happened to her?"
"I have observed a change in her for some time past," Florence
ventured to say; "but nothing like this. There is something wrong."
When the time to part, with his companion came, Edwin Florence felt a
sense of relief. Weeks now passed without his seeing or hearing any
thing from Edith. During the time he met Miss Linmore frequently; and
encouraged to approach, he at length ventured to speak to her of what
was in his heart. The young lady heard with pleasure, and, though she
did not accept the offered hand, by no means repulsed the ardent suitor.

She had not thought of marriage, she said, and asked a short time for
reflection.
Edwin saw enough in her manner to satisfy him that the result would be
in his favor. This would have made him supremely happy, could he
have blotted out all recollection of Edith and his conduct towards her.
But, that was impossible. Her form and face, as he had last seen them,
were almost constantly before his eyes. As he walked the streets, he
feared lest he should meet her; and never felt pleasant in any company
until certain that she was not there.
A few days after Mr. Florence had made an offer of his hand to Miss
Linmore, and at a time when she was about making a favorable
decision, that young lady happened to