The Cadiz Democratic sentinel. [volume] (Cadiz, Ohio) 1854-1864, 1854-05-10

tercourse. Mary still made him in the re-
cipient of glrlisa secrets, and plans, and
dreams. just as she had done OF hel little
griefs and Joys in childhood; asked him TO
quite his favorite passages of poetry, or
stationed herself near HIM at the piano,
suggested subjects for him to play, which
he extemporised at her bidding. Bright
and blooming as Mary was, the life Of every
party, beaming with animation and enjoy
ment, no attention was capable of rendering
her unmindful Of him; she was often known
to sit out several dances in an evening TO
dear Elwar Owen, who would be sad if he
thought himself neglected.
And now she taily visited the invalid;
her buoyant spirits tempered by sympathy
for her increasing suffering; but still diffu.
sing such an atmosphere Of sunshine and
hope around her, that gloom and desponden.
cy seemed 10 vanish at her presence. Ed
wards sightless eyes were always raised to
her bright face, as if he felt the magic in.
huence it impaired.
His mother had noted all this, with a
mothers watchfuIness; and, on that day,
when strong in her love she had underta-
kel to break to him the fact which all others
shrunk from communicating, she spoke also
OF Mary, and of the vague wild hope she
had al ways cherished of one day seeing her
his wife. 4 -
"No, mother, mol" exclaimed the blind
man, dearest mother, in this you are
not true to yourself! WHAT z Would
you wish to see her in alther Springtime
of youth and beauty sacrificed TO such an
one as Ito see Mary, asfyou described
I her TO me, as my soul tells me she is, tied
dowa to he my guide. and leader, and sup
port Of one who couldtnot make one step in
her defence; who help pless alone in theNeyes
of men, would be his means of sheltering
and protecting her! Would you hear her
pitied, our bright Mary pitied-~as Blind
Mans Wife, mother?"
"But E4ward--if sne loves you, as am
sure she does"
Love me, mother Yes, as angels love
mortaIs, as sister loves brother, as you
love mel And for this benighted love, this
tender sympathy, could kneel and kiss the
glound she treads upon; but, beyond this
were you to entl eat her to marry your blind
and solitary son, and she in pity answered
Yes, would accept her on such terms and
rivet the chains she had consented to as
sume? Oh mother, mother, | haye not
studied you in vain, your life has been one
long self-sacritice to me, its silent teaching
shall bear fruit? Do not grieve so bitterly
for me. GOD was very IN ;rciful in giving
me such a mother; let US trust HIM for the
future'!
All, poor tortured heart, speaking SO
bravelY forth, striving to cheer the mothers
failing spirit, when all to him was dark, dark,
dark
She raised herself upon her pillow, and
wound her weak arms about his neck, and
listened to the expressions Of inefable love
and faith and consolation, which her son
found strength to utter, to sustain her soul
Yea. in that Eour her recompence had be-
gun; in loneliness, in secret tears, with
Christian patience and endeavor, with an
exalted and faithful spirit, had she sown; and
in death she reaped her reward.
They had been silent for some minutes,
and she lay back exhausted, but composed
while he sat beside her, holling her hand
in his, fancying she slept, and anxiously lis
tenitg to her breathing which seemed more
than usually oppressed. A rustling was
heard amid the flowers at the window, and
bright young face looked in.
"Hush!" said Edward, recogn izing the
step, Hush, Mary, she is asleep!'
The color and the smiles alike passed from
Mary's face, when she glided into the room
"Oh Edward, Edward. she is not asleep,
she is very, very i'll !'
"Maryl darling Mary" said the dying
lady, with difficulty rousing herself: 81
have had such pleasant dream; but | have
slept too long. tits night. Let them bring
candles. Edward. l cannot see you now
Night, and the sun SO brightly shining
The shadows OF the grave were stealing fas
upon her.
Other steps now sounded in the room, ant
many faces gathered around the couch; bu
the blind man heard nothing-was con.
cious of nothing, save the painful laboret
Precipitation, the tremuous hand that Aut
/ tered in his own, the broken sentences.
: edward, my dearest, take comfort.
have hope. God is indee merclful."
"Oh Edward, do not grieve so sadly
1t breaks my heart to see you cry. For he
7 sake be calm for my sake :ooP' Mar.
knels beside him, and endeavored to sooth'
. the volceless anguish which it terrified he
| TO witness.
4 Another interval, when no sound brok
5 the stiffness that prevailed; and again Mrs
: Owen opened her eyes, and saw Mar
i, kneeling by Edwards side. They we're as
: sociated with the previous current c
; her thoughts, and a smile lighted up he
/ face.
r "As l wished, as l prayed, to die! NJ
/ children both. Kiss me, Mary, my bles
a sing, my consoler! Edward, nearer, nearer
e Child of SO many hopes aad prayers-al
i answered now!' And with her bright Wis
t ion unalloyed, her rejoicing soul took wing
= and knew sorrow and tears to more.
/, X Il u II
s Four months had passed since Mr..
d Ovens death, and her son was still stayn
n at Woodlands, the residence of Mary's fatf
y er, Colonel Parker, at two miles distance fror
d Eedward Owens solitary home; hither ha
he been prevailed upon TO remove, after tn
/ first shock Of his grief had subsided.
k Colonel and Mrs. Parker were kiud-hear
! ed people, and the peculiar situation of Ed
q ward Owen appealed to their best feelings
, SO they made no opposition to their childre
n devoting themselves increasingly to hin
j. and striving by every innocent device,
6 render his affection less poignant and OF