The Winchester home journal. [volume] (Winchester, Tenn.) 1857-1858, 1857-10-03
CHAPTER II.


Atl borne iiine image with me DER the sea,
Thy soft voice in my soul srcak o, yet lvefor me
IIKMAas
Look up vel. smile me lest falter'
Come to the refuge Of my wounded breasti
No whte.rotcl priest, beside the sacred altar
Win eUald more icaously his high bequest.
MISS WoopMAH
Three years had passed away since
Maud Raymond sa, in her room and read
the marriage Of Philip We're. TO her
they had brought both wealth and fame;
she had found pleasure in laboring for
the good Of others; and If she waa no:
happy, she had at lcast learned to bs
calm.
In those years sho had grown more
beautiful; and among the many noble
women who adorned the high circle Of
society in which she moved--the bright.
est ornament, perhaps--none were more
often sought in marriage than this one
loving woman. But for all suitors she
had the same firm, yet gentle no. The
world wondered but none knew OF the
throbbing heart that beat so wildly be-
meath the outward calmness; none read,
in the mournful songs, the SORROWS wrung
from sad experience.
And how had time dealt with Philip
We're? 70 him those three years had
brought much Of sorrow. Shortly AFTER
his arrival in England. his parents had
both died. His wife he had loved--not
as no had loved Maud-but more than he
had once thought possible; indeed, she
was so gentle, SO saintlike, that he could
no, have done otherwise. For one brief
year she fingered by his side, and then,
with his dear name upon her lips, sho too
died, and they laid her to rest in the 81
lent tomb. And did the face Of Maud
of noble, loving Maud--never como to
his mind in all those years? Yes, many
times and oft he had thought of her; and
it was her face that drew him, two years
after the death of his wife, second tims
across the Atlantic.
II was a warm, bright morning in june,
and Philip We're sat by an open window
in his beautiful mansion on the banks OF
the Hudson. thinking Of her whom he
had loved so we'll. A strange, inexprcs.
sible sadness stole over him, and, raising
his mournful eyes, he said. half audibly;
Oh, Maud, would ,ha, nigh, SEQ you
once morel
Even whilst he was speaking, lady,
elegantly attired, rode by on horseback;
it was but hasly glimpse that caugh,
her face; but that sufliced; that noble.
gueenly head--that soft brown hair, and
those speaking eyes, could bslongto
none but Maud.
Seizng his hat, fe hun:ed down the
soft, mossy foot.pa.h that led to the road.
and saw her riding rapidly on, and take
the sravelled walk which ended in front
Of neat, white villa. Doubtless shs
was stopping there; and now-and his
heart beat wildly at the though.-nop no
should see her again.
Mounting one OF his sulftest horses, no
galloped down to the little villa; serv"
an, conducted him TO the elegantly
furnished parlor,
Can see Miss Raymand' he asked
with breathless esgeTness. The servant
bowed and left the room.
Scarce five minutes had elapsed
though to HIM it seemed so many hours
ere the door was opened and Maud
entered. Yes. i, was Maud--but she
had changel. Her hair vas darker, and
instead Of falling IN curls upon her With
neck, was plated, in broad, glossy braids.
around her noble head; her eyes wero
deeper; and The light that shons in their
clear depths, was sailder and more sub
dued; her form was more elegant. Maud
the woman Of twenty, wac
different from the girl Of seventeen---and
yet, so very, very like.
She came gracefully forward, with the
old sweet smile upon her face, as il eI'
pec,ing to meet a friend; but when she
ga zed into the sad, thougbtfol face--whsn
sho met the glance Of his dark blue eyes,
her self command, for cnce, foneok her.