The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1855-08-30
CHAPTER III.

Henry Irvine awoke to consciousness
in burning fever. 1t was not merely that
which invariably follows debauch, nor was
it that terrific deirium consequent upon
long indulgence in intoxication; for his
fall had been rapid, and the time of his er-
ror short. But disappointment, excess
and exposure, had made him, in a short
space, perfect wreck, he obeyed her
guidance like child, and she conducted
him to his bed, and then dispatched the
following note to an old friend:
Mary Irvine hopes that, among all the
friends of her better days, there is one left
who will come to her in her extremity,
with no impossible demands, and that she
shall find that one friend in Dr.. Ralph.
The physician, benevolent old gentle
man, was with her even before her messen-
ger returned. He listened kindly and il
thought of incredulity arose in his mind,
he concealed it, and followed the wife,
with kind words, as an equal, and not as a
patron, to the bed side of her husband
moment he stood regarding the sad pic
ture; then gently taking the debauche' s
hand, proceeded mechanicallyto count his
pulse.
ooh, Doctorl" cried the sufferer, turn
ing away, this is the cruelty of kindhess!'
A suspicion, occurred to him, and dark
shadow come over his face. "No" he
shouted in husky voice, cit is the keen
ness of insultw He rose to spring for
ward-but his face became deadly pale
and he sank exhaustless and powerless.
The doctor sighed and turned away
He sat down and pencilled prescription
and said, 8" will call again"
"Will you, indeed, said Mary, her face
Frightening up.
"Poor child said the old gentleman
"You are pleased to find that admit tha
something ails him beside intoxication
Strange-strange-but very natural" anC
he hurried out.
Henry lay some hours weak but con
scious. Faithfully, but painfully, did hi
, wife attend upon him; for, while the ne
cessity of attention, and the promptngs o
her heart called here to her side, she griev
G ed to see that the sight of her face dlstur
bed him almost to distraction. And VIII
: can wonder?
1t was long, long day. And day pas
r sed into evening, and evening into mid
, night, before the care of her husband an
j her child suffered her to rest. Exhauste
S nature claimed her due, and Mary dream
, ed. She was back in the joy of othe
r years yet over that joy there seemed
sadness. People were dccrying him; a
she had often done. And while sh
dreamed she thought his pleasant voic
It spake in her ear, MARY" Again
It spake, and now she sprang up and wei
n to his bedside.
|, "Can you forgive me?'
"Forgive you dearest?" She did ne
IS know whether she was asleep or awake
). whether she spake in fact or deed,
g whether the voice was dream voice.
? So, for want of further words, she place
h her cheek to his.
l. "God bless you, MaryI Now I CT
IS rest"
5 He fellasleep. But the shock his heal
n had received was not to be retrieved
% easily as by one nights rest. On the mo
= row he was both better and worse be
ter, for there was less fever; worse, II
there was less strength.
And so wore day after day. We nee
a not relate how, with sure progress, b
If slow, death mastered his victim /; for He
is ry Irwine's days were numbered. Al
we need not describe how the young wi
s, lowered over his couch, and his veal
:, life was closed in forgiveness and peac
n Brothers and friends she lacked not nov
il for He who calls us hence by death, b
A. surrounded its approach with circumsta
ID ces which remove enmities and disar
A. hate. He passed away quietly, and /
j. last illness left gentle memory OF him
of mems hearts.
re There was sound of wheels at the dot
he "Now, daughter" said her mother,
d, she entered, "we have come for you,
o. we promised. Come home again to o
hearths. Forget that you were ever aw'
= Mary silently pointed to her child, l
I'd Her mother could make no reply, and N
ry said: