Burlington hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1845-185?, 1851-04-10

door she did not know me, but r.cog-
| nized her one of the old servants. |
asked after the honsekeeper first, thif kirc
| would surprise Isabel. My heart finr-
tered somem hat. thinking she nigh, per-
haps step in suddenly herself or perhaps
that she nigh, have seen me coming up
the hill But even then thought she
would hardly know me.
Presently the hou>ekeeper came in,
looking very grave; she asked If the gem
,leman wished 10 see her.
The gentleman did wish il, and she sat
down OH one side OF the fire, for il was
autumn. and the leaves were falling. and
the November winds were very chilly.
Shall tell her thought Nv am,
or ask at once for Isabel? tried 10 ask,
but i, was hard for me 10 call her name,
it was very strange, but could not pro-
nounce il at all.
who, sir ? said the honsekeeper. in q
tone SO earnest, that rose at once, and
crossed over and took her hand: You
know me- said l, you surely remember
Paul z .--.~.-.-s=s-a
She started with surprise, but recover
ed herself, and resumed the same grave
manner. thought had committed some
mistake, or been in some way cause Of of
fence. called her Madame, and asked
for Isabel ? She turned pale, terrible
pale-'Bella 2 said she. r... ...
Yes, Bella
dropped into my chair? ! said Eo,h-
ing. The housekeeper-tles her kind
heart slipped noiselessly ont. My hands
were over my eyes. The winds were
sighing outside and the clock ticking
mourniully within.
did not sob nor weep, nor utter cry.
!! The clock tieked nourufully, and the
winds were signing bu: ! did not hear
them any longer; there was tempest
raging within me, that would have drown
ed the voice Of thunder.
Ii broke al length i'm long deep sigh
'oh God!'--said l. Ii may have been d
pra, er, il was not an imprecation.
Bella--sweet Bella was dead Itspemed
| as if with her, half the world were dead
every brieh: face darkened-every sun
shine blo.ted out-eyery flower witlered
every hope exiinguished!
I walked into the air. and stood under
the trees where we had played together
with poor Tray where Tray lay buried.
But it was no, Tray thought Of as l
stood there, with the cold wind playing
through my hair, and my eyes filled with
,ears,-how could she die2 Why was
she gone Was il really true? Was
Isabel indeed dead--in her cofiin--buried?
Then why should anybody live? What
was there TO live for, now that Bella was
gone?
Ah, what gap in the y orld is made by
the death of those we love-. u is no lon
ger whole, but poor half-w that
swings uneasy on its axis, and makes you
dizzy with the c!a,ter Of its wreck.
The honsekeeper told me sll--li'ile by
little, as found calmnc~s TO listen. She
had been dead month; Lilly was with
her through it all; she died sweetly, with
out pain, and without fear-wh bat can an
gels fear? She had often spoken of
Cousin Paul. she lad left little pack
age for him, but il was not there; she had
given il into Lilly's keeping.
Her grave, the housskeeper told me,
was only little way off from the house
beside The grave oI q brother who died
long years before. | went there tia;
evening The mruntl was high and fresh.
The sods had not closed together. and the
dry leaves caught in The crrviees, ard
gave a ragged ard terrible lo,k 10 the
grave. Tie next day laid item all
smooth-as we had laid them on the grave
of Tray; clipped tie long grass and fcta
.lurt Of blue vioIet> at the lcoi, and uatered
il all with tears. Tie homestead, the
trees, the fields, the mead"w~--in Tie
windy November locked disinally. I
could mol like them again, Iliked nothing
but the little mound that / lad dressed
over Bella's grave. There she sleeps the
sleep Of death.