Des Moines courier. ([Ottumwa] Iowa) 1848-1854, 1854-02-09

nome HSilh Btitie lis departure Tor
the South.
heard The footsteps, but | did no,
look up; then, directly, two loving arms
were laid arohnl my neck; soft cheek
came close 10 mine. and Elsy, sweet
EIsy rrevors. knelt BY my side. With
a glad cry Of surprise, pressed her to
my heart; and we mingled our tears
together.
Now" said Elsv, tying on her bon
net. "now, dear Agnes. have :uld you
all. aud | must go. could no, leave
.ihe Grange withcu, coming "a see ynu
once again. ! will not say any u,ore
abou, Robert. Perhaps you have done
right, but, Agnes | vii! always love
) you."
watched Eisy from the hail door for
litte while, and then | went b1ck to my
room, somewhat comfortcd in heart hv
her visit. In day or two. Mrs. IRE
vors and her daughter left "the Grange"
and /, was desolate again. They were
70 meet Rober, in the city, and accom-
pany hlm to the South; and, before very
long, heard Of their departure ,hisher.
And the wailing winds of Autumn
swept again over earth, and they found
me where they bad left me one liItle year
hefo-e--a wanderer in the desert. Oh!
more than that-a sorrowing pilgrim in
a ragged path.
Aud time passed by, and aun, Ethel
grew weaker each day, 50 that before the
frs, SHOWS fell. she could M logger SIT
up in her easy ,hair. AunI EIacl never
spoke tD me of Robert Trevais, aud al.
though she con stan,ly now required my
attention. ! could in no wise trace the
slightest sOften!ng of her heart towards
me. Some,imes. thought she seemed
harsher and colder than ever. And for
aunt Eshel had given up everything. all
my sweet. swee! happiness; and His was
iAy rec0mpense-unsym mpalhiziug, icy
indifference. Oh! was not mine a star
Tess Sky! The gloom of desols,i)n tell
over my soai. aud for a season walked
IN great darkness. But it was not al
way ;hus. The "Comforter" was gra-
cious! He pu, far from me all nv dark
repinIngs and selfish grief. and gave me
instead patience anG resignation. 81
that. although my path was rugged. a
light, "uus of this world. bul from iteav-
Ell" streamed of,enimes across it. And
| learned thai duiy's ways "ase ways "i
pIeasao,nsss and peace
Looked out, and could see ROLLING
but faded grass, leatiess trees, ard dull
stormy sky. A bleak afternoon it was.
more ike Winter than Spring. although
now The midi.e of March. Ali was
giogm aud desolation without; aud w!lh
Ia was the awful desolauon of DEATH
For, when ;uraed from The window,
my eyes fell upon q coffin, with heavy.
velvet irapplngs; and, when bent over
that coffin. | saw within it the pale and
sbroaded form of aunt Ethel. Kueeling
10 ,uat death chamber, | wept: and zine
few by, and the light came IN through
The Grape festGoned windows din and
family, bu, siili fingered by aunt Elhel's
side. la the midst of my loneliness, a
strange. swee, memory came soo,hiugIy
across my heart, and 4! was lhis:-- But
Llsle while before aunt Ethei's death,
she called me 10 her side. and grasping
my hands tightly 10 hers, .hus had she
spokeu--
"Agnes, know all you have done for
me. am not ignorant of the secrfice
you made for my sake. Before | die.
let me thank you; before die lie, me tell
you that all onF kindness fell pleasant,
ly upon my heart. but have been stern
and cold, poor child. Your life has been
dresry. YET dared not 10 do otherwise,
| could not. Agnes, forgive me-
And. when weepingsy stopped down
To kiss auni Ethel, she flung her arms
around my neck. And in ,ha, close EN-.
brace, thai solemn dea.hsuuggle, did
learn, but not ,ili then. lha, aunt Ethel
locel me. Aunt Ethel, though a stern
and gloomy woman, was a follower Of
"the meek aud lowiy Jesus" and in His
name she laid her down, and slept in
peace. A while. fair s;oae marks aunt
,thei resting place, aud upon It's broad
surface Is but her name--Ethel Correyi.
Aud aunt Eiheis will was read. F.r-
wood. It's rich iurnlure, and gaod!y lands.
with small annuity. was my portion.
TO Margaret, she lef, legacy; b,, The
bulk Of aunt Ethel's properly and i,
was great she wiiied TO charitable pur-
poses; aud her will closed with ,hcse
words:-
"Riches have been To me sharp thorn
IA sore evil. IN their possession |
have been cursed. In mercy. then, TO
my niece. Agnes Field, have thus dis
posed Of my properly. Ii she sees not
my wisdom in this thing now, the H. h,
Of eternity will cue day reveal it To her.
ETHEL CoRaEyL."
CHAPTER V.