Heart-Histories and Life-Pictures | Page 8

sunk in his
bosom. Memory's magic mirror was before him, and in it he saw
pictured the whole scene of that last meeting with Edith.
A little while afterward, and Edwin Florence was missed from the
pleasant company. Where was he? Alone in the solitude of his own
chamber, with his thoughts upon the past. Again he had been reading
over those pages of his Book of Life in which was written the history of
his intimacy with and desertion of Edith; and the record seemed as
fresh as if made but the day before. It was in vain that he sought to
close or avert his eyes. There seemed a spell upon him; and he could
only look and read.
"Fatal error!" he murmured to himself, as he struggled to free himself
from his thraldom to the past. "Fatal error! How a single act will curse
a man through life. Oh! if I could but extinguish the whole of this
memory! If I could wipe out the hand-writing. Sorrow, repentance, is of
no avail. The past is gone for ever. Why then should I thus continue to
be unhappy over what I cannot alter? It avails nothing to Edith. She is
happy--far happier than if she had remained on this troublesome earth."
But, even while he uttered these words, there came into his mind such a
realizing sense of what the poor girl must have suffered, when she
found her love thrown back upon her, crushing her heart by its weight,
that he bowed his head upon his bosom and in bitter self-upbraidings
passed the hours until midnight, when sleep locked up his senses, and
calmed the turbulence of his feelings.
CHAPTER III.

MONTHS elapsed before Edwin Florence ventured again into
company.
"Why will you shut yourself up after this fashion?" said an
acquaintance to him one day. "It isn't just to your friends. I've heard
half a dozen persons asking for you lately. This hermit life you are

leading is, let me tell you, a very foolish life."
The friend who thus spoke knew nothing of the young man's heart
history.
"No one really misses me," said Florence, in reply.
"In that you are mistaken," returned the friend. "You are missed. I have
heard one young lady, at least, ask for you of late, more than a dozen
times."
"Indeed! A young lady?"
"Yes; and a very beautiful young lady at that."
"In whose eyes can I have found such favor?"
"You have met Miss Clara Weldon?"
"Only once."
"But once!"
"That is all."
"Then it must be a case of love at first sight--at least on the lady's
part--for Miss Weldon has asked for you, to my knowledge, not less
than a dozen times."
"I am certainly flattered at the interest she takes in me."
"Well you may be. I know more than one young man who would
sacrifice a good deal to find equal favor in her eyes. Now see what you
have lost by this hiding of your countenance. And you are not the only
loser."
Florence, who was more pleased at what he heard than he would like to
have acknowledged, promised to come forth from his hiding place and
meet the world in a better spirit. And he did so; being really drawn

back into the social circle by the attraction of Miss Weldon. At his
second meeting with this young lady he was still more charmed with
her than at first; and she was equally well pleased with him. A few
more interviews, and both their hearts were deeply interested.
Now there came a new cause of disquietude to Edwin; or, it might be
said, the old cause renewed. The going out of his affections towards
Miss Weldon revived the whole memory of the past; and, for a time he
found it almost impossible to thrust it from his mind. While sitting by
her side and listening to her voice, the tones of Edith would be in his
ears; and, often, when he looked into her face he would see only the
fading countenance of her who had passed away. This was the first
state, and it was exceedingly painful while it lasted. But, it gradually
changed into one more pleasant, yet not entirely free from the
unwelcome intrusion of the past.
The oftener Florence and Miss Weldon met, the more strongly were
their hearts drawn toward each other; and, at length, the former was
encouraged to make an offer of his hand. In coming to this resolutions,
it was not without passing through a painful conflict. As his mind dwelt
upon the subject, there was a reproduction of old states. Most vividly
did he recall the time when he breathed into the ears of Edith vows to
which he had proved faithless.