Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1858-12-09
MAT WARD;
on,
THE T0RY'S DO 0 NJ.
A Tale Of the Days that Tried Mems Souls
By the Author Of The Scout Of the Lake, Waldo, or
Life on the Border" &C.. &c.
CHAPTER XI.
A IEE HISTORY.

IlFE HISTORY.
IL was towards the close of an afternoon
week subsequent TO Mabel's meeting with the
Spy, that she was sitting by the bedside OF her
mother, engaged upoa sone light needle-work.
There were the marks of anxiety and suffering
upon her brew, and the rich bloom which was
wont to mantle hor cheek, had fled The SPAR
kie in her eye, too, had given place to sad
dened look, and often, almost unconscously,
the pearlg tear-drop cast q haze over their Wis
ion, And as she sat there, the work fell idly
into her lap, and she gazed dreamily out at the
halfopened door, her thoughts resting upon one
whose presence would dispel every cloud from
her spirit,
Mabel" said Mrs. Archer, as she watched
the expression of her face, ' something troubles
you"
"We are all liable, dear mother, to be sad at
times, replied Mabel.
"Withouta cause, my child ?" asked Mrs
Archer.
Sometimes, mother. Our own fancies Of
ten weave spell of sadness over the mind when
in reality there is no cause for grief
al have noticed of late, Mabel, that you are
often in tears, and have observed with pain the
care-worn look which has usurped the smile SO
often upon your face, Surely, this must have
cause"
"My sadness is nothing save the result OF
my own folly in anticipating evil. will try
and be more cheerful, as it pains you to see me
thus?''
"Twould not have you feign cheerful lness
when there is a secret grief dwelling in your
heart. Can you not confde in me? Surely,
Mabel, have never given you cause to fear to
place implicit trust in me-
Mother, cannot--it is nothing. L will
throw it off, and henceforth you shall see me as
cheerful as ever"
She leaned her head upon her hand, and in
spite of the words she had uttered, the tears
came coursing slowly down her cheeks.
ain tears, Mabel - exclaimed Mrs. Archer
in q concerned voice. "Oh, my child, why
will you not let me share this grief with you
that may pray God to give you strength t(
bear it?"
Mabel did not answer, but laying her heac
upon her mothers pillow, the tears flowed
afresh.
"Mabel," said Mrs. Archer, throwing al
arm around her neck, &C were to ask you
question for your own good, you would be fre
to answer it, would you not?''
&C Certainly, dear mother
eff you cannot confde in me, who will 20,
trust? think have read the reason of thi
change in your feelings. Is not Mark Lincoll
the cause ~
"Yes,'' replied Mabel trembling
EDO you love him, Mabel?"
"Mother, I do. Why should be ashame
to own my regard for one like him?" replies
Mabel, looking up through her tears.
I" 1t is as feared He is indeed worthy o
you, my child but were to tell you it wer
better that you had never seen Mark Lincoln, i
would cause you pain, would it not ~
Better that had never seen Mark Lin
coin" uttered Mabel with palhd brow
Worthy of my love, and yet better that W
had never met You speak strangely-l do no
understand you
"You do not believe, Mabel, that I woul
willingly do anything to make you unhappy?
"No, no. Have you not always done all
your power for my good?"
81 have, dear Mabel, and it was for yor
good That / said what did about your intimac
with Mark Lincoln. He has never asked yo
if you loved him?"
He has, dear mother"
''And you told him -
" THAT the love he felt for me was returned.
g Did he say aught beside, Mabe?" ask
Mrs. Archer, fastening her eyes intently upC
her daughter.
Yes, he asked me to he his wife,"
"Your answer ~ cried the mother, her ia
white as the pillow upon which her head W
lying.
g. If he thought me worthy to take such
place in his affections, that would wed him
"Child, child do you realize what you ha
done?" exclaimed Mrs. Archer rising up
Mother, you frighten me! Do not 10,
at me thus. thought it not wrong to gi
such an answer
"Oh, Mabel, had you consulted me VIII
this passion began to work in your heart,
would have saved you many years of misery,
I d. not blame you, | do not chide you, for lc
ing Mark Lincoln he is all could desire, a
yet, you can never be his wife, .
''Not his wife? | will not, cannot, belle
it, SAID Mabel earnestly.
g 1t is painful task for me to dash the c
of happiness from your lips, whose conte,
seemed so sweet to you ; but were to give
consent to your marriage with Mark Linco
my conscience would upbraid me till my dyi
day. You have often asked me to tell YOU
your father and know not why have alw,
refused to do so but there has ever bee
strange reluctance in my mind to give you
history