Butte record., 1856-01-19
NU 1[BER Il.


Three days afterward they buried
her. And when the lonesome man,witll
bowed head and solemn step entered
his library, and gazed around him
sadly, he saw an unopened letter lying
on his desk, where a servant had
placed it three days before, when he
dropped it from his hand to the aoor
He opened it at length as a bosi-
ness matter, coolly, calmly, without
so he said to himself one throb Of
heart quicker than usual.
"Phiiip, come to me. | am dying!'
fTLey were almost the Very words in
which his wife had called him back to
her.) How | have wasted all the
blesselness God offered to ne! How
have deceived you, cursed myself
| do love you, Philip. l have loved
you every hour since was old enough
to love. I have loved you with super
human-why should | not say inhu-
maa!-loye. Aud now /, the widow
Of another man, lonesome, dying, call
You back to me, fhlllp, to see me dle.|
He went to her. He found her in
the splendid home she Lad Inherited
from her husband, one whom men call
great, the representative Of d great
power. Hew was man Of no affections,
who had married her for the sake Of a
wealthy alliance, and had died leaving
her wealth she did not want, and dis
appointment to all her ambition-and
now she was dying.
Philip HTinslow would not have gone
to her but for the feeling that he might
be useful to her in the hour Of her ex-
tremity. 1t was not love tllat carried
him back. 1t was the duty Of a Chris
tian minister-nothing else; at least,
SO he said to his own heart, and doubt
less it was true.
She lay on splendid couch, sur
rounded by all the evidences of wealth
and ease. She drank from crystal
goblets set in gold, and the coverings
Of her couch were Of the finest and
most costly fabrics. The ceiling of
room was frescoed in exquisite colors,
and the walls hung with tapestries Of
quaint and expensive beauty. All
that was around her was Characters
tic of her tastes al was beautiful, su-
perb, magnificent.
He had come very late. She had
watched hour by hour for his coming,
and wondered whether her messenger
could have failed. And at length She
had become restless, and she gave him
up on tie fourth day, and fever took
hold Of her, and deirium followed
All her rawlings were of him, and the
secret Of her proud heart was known to
all the servants in her house. And
when he came they knew him, and
smiled as he passed up to her chamber
marshaled by the aunt who was with
her in the country village.
She lay there the wreck Of all her
splendid beauty, and he looked on her
and the past came before him-again
and again the storm came and he
bowed bis head and yielded to it now.
He gazed on her face, and his heart
beat nov wildly, fercely, with the
passion Of youth. lie bent over her,
and his breath was on her forehead and
she smiled and opened her eyes.
'Philip, Philip" and she lifted her
arms to his neck, and he knelt by her
and buried his face out Of sight, While
he sobbed aloud. And then he put
his arms around her and held her to
his breast and strove to recall the van
ishing powers of her young, great
heart but all in vain.
That night they were mslried, and
the next day she died, and when her
dust lay in bis arms-his at last, but
worthless dnst-he felt once more, and
row for the last time, the storm In his
soul ; and having yielded once, he re-
sisted now and conquered bravcly and
forever.
He left a kiss on her forehead, but
no tear fell in her grave. He went to
his village home. None there knew Of
his struggle, and no man appreciated
his victory. Doubtless the angels did.
She left him her immense wealth, but
he never touched one farthing Of it.
There was small property belonging
to Susan, which lad been left to him,
and which, with some strange prefer
ence he was willing to use, and which
afforded him the means Of increasing
his library and living in ease. Here
moved to village where his history
was not known, and where he spent
his life in earnest works Of love.
rcg= Milton was a cobbler's clerk