Edward, after a prosperous journey, arrived safely at his place of destination, was settled in a lucrative business, even exceeding his most sanguine expectations, and was constant in his promise of writing to Annie.
When winter returned with his winds, the aged grandfather was stricken down by death. He fell like a sturdy oak before the stroke of the destroyer, for he too had buffetted many a winter's storm, having lived beyond the age of man. They bore him to his grave, when the winds of winter blew fiercely round, and the drifting snow almost obstructed their passage to the grave yard. He was deposited in the place alotted him, and left to his repose, with the bleak winds of winter pelting fiercely upon his grave. He heeded them not--that weary sleeper, tired of looking upon the world, with all its changes.
Capt. Somers settled in that country before the woodman's axe had felled the forest trees; and when they must pursue their way to Gardiner by spotted trees, and frequently did herds of Indians wrapped in their blankets, call at their door and exchange the moose meat which they had dried, for beef, bread and other eatables.
These were times that tried men's souls, for during the war they were frequently alarmed by hearing that unfriendly Indians were coming upon them, which would fill the early settlers with dismay. So it might well be said, as they laid the aged man to rest, he had seen changes, for truly, had he seen "the wilderness made to bud and blossom like the rose," and the temple of the living God supplying the place of the Indian's wigwam.
The grandson, who had come in possession of the property, decided to break up house-keeping, and placing his grandmother in the family of a son, soon accomplished his purpose, leaving Annie and Ellen to look out for themselves. Ellen went to reside with her mother, who had erected a little cottage in a distant village.
This was a severe trial to Annie; she scarcely knew what course to pursue; but, procuring board with an intimate friend, she entered a cotton factory with a number of her young friends, thinking that would be a respectable, and an easy way of obtaining her livelihood.
She wrote an affectionate letter to Edward, informing him of the change in her circumstances and her present occupation, saying she did not think the occupation would diminish her worth, or tarnish her good name.
He answered it by requesting her to leave her employment, and offering to pay her board if she would do so; but she preferred being independent, and thought she would remain and earn what she could to help herself; and there the matter dropped, she working on two weary years. Often did she visit the Island, gaze upon the name of Edward, and recall the scenes of that and many other evenings. Many of the companions of that evening had united their destinies for life--many had left the village, and some had closed their eyes forever upon the things of earth, and entered upon the untried scenes of eternity.
It was the close of a dreary autumn day, when the withered leaves rustled before the cold chilly winds, and the dust was hurried on in eddying torrents, that there came a whispered report to the ear of Annie that Edward had returned from Boston. Her heart beat violently, and she could scarcely stand upon her feet, as she contemplated the pleasure of seeing him again, after so long an absence. Many were the cordial greetings she received from her merry companions, upon the occasion. She hurried home, eager with expectation, wondering, as she judged him by the tumultuous beatings of her own heart, he did not seek her sooner. As she passed on to her boarding place, she saw him standing at a distance, in conversation with his brother, and although his back was towards her, she mentally exclaimed,
"It is indeed my own Edward."