Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-05-10
-. .HE 10 ms 0EChET;
OR, THE
Artists Love and Ambition.
ICONCLUDED.1

gaze on that we see no other thing in heaven
or on earth beyond it. So had gazed, and
so had / grown blind
The summer was over. Noel had regained
his strength, and was at work again. Once
more the seat was vacant in the west window,
and we two women were left alone. Then
awoke, in pain and sorrow. My star was
taken from my sight. and, in the light of
common day, l saw that Mrs. Erickson was
dying
She was dying! Human help could not
save heri The day knew it she told me all
she herself knew-that it affecting her,
but the extension of a disease that she had
suffered from for years. knowing-my brave
godmOther-through the whole of it that it
must end only by killing her.
1t was the close of autumn when the days
grew dark, and the chill evenings drew in
early, began a watch that ceased no more
till my godmother lay dead. g ga 80
She told Noel at the beginning of the win
ter. She fingered all through IT, On one of
the first days of spring the long, racking bit
ter pain was ended, and she died. i was
kneeling crying by her bed when she depar-
ted; but her last thoughts, her last words, her
last look, were none of them for me. Her
face was turned where she could look on
Noel, and to the final moment before death,
her eyes chung to his face. They closed at
last-and then cry rang through the
room.
Mother" But she was dead.
There was spring sunshine in the rooms,
and spring life upon the earth; but my heart
was like a stone in its cold heaviness. Oh,
what should do? She was dead and l must
GO We had opened the windows, that had
been colsed until her funeral and l wandered
alone about the solitary house. could begin
no work. could take refuge in no occupation;
I 6rht Int hat tho
dead, and must go away.
i could not speak about going that day
when they laid her in the earth. Even though
it was done at morning, and the empty house
was open all day long, 1 could not do it. l
stole that one day for my respite: In the
evening when we two met together for
little while we talked of other things, he was
very kind to me- God bless himl He never
babe me leave him.
But l cOuld not sleep all night | watched
till the night was passed away; and when the
morning came knew the day had dawned
that was to seal tie sentence of my exile.
1t was seated in the evening when the sun
had set, and the shadow of the church was ~
ng dark upon the room. | waited until
then, that in the gloom he might not see my
face.
L had learnt my lesson all day long, that
when the time came might speak it without
trembling. The time had come. / laced my
fingers close together, and | spoke it.
''Noel. when am | TO go?''
He was startled The twilight was not so
deep but | could see that. | saw his sudden
glance at me-his quick surprise. l had no
answer for moment: and then he spoke, but
not gladly-oh! God he thanked, not gladly!
Il had forgotten that you bad to go, Ruth"
I" Had you fOrgotten?" L spoke sorrow
fully, not in bitterness. s. Yes, that was
natural; you had other things to think Of"
He rose from his place and came to where
sat. He stood near to Inc, and leaned his arm
upon my chair.
Ruth, where are you gOing?"
" Where?" raised my face TO his one mo-
ment. ITO the place | came from-to the
house | left?"
How soon? Not at once?-not this
week."
at does not matter the week or next. l
will do what you like.
Then give me one week longer, Ruth"
yes
And / said no more; we were both silent.
But when some moments had gone past, and
while | still sat in my duh hopeless resigna-
ton, suddenly l was quickened by his touch.
1t lay on my bent hand, for the first time l
had ever felt it. | stopped beneath the
pressure of his hand.
Ruth he said sadly, ~ wish could say
to you, remain with me. | am not happy
now; and when you go, you will take the
last ray of sunshine with you from the house;
it has been a lighter nuuse rom the day you
entered it. God bless you, little Ruthl'
His hand was gone from me, as himself
would be all gone within one little week. If
he had asked me, | would have remained with
him to be servant in his house; and | did
not stir or speak. For his kindness | had no
thanks-for his blessing no response; but all
my heart was faintng in me-shrinkng into
=. a. tI,o bod ~ tie
| went away. 1t was bright spring day,
and the birds were building their nests under
the shelter of the old church caves. | had
been very quiet all the week, going about
strangely, like one in dream, | was quite
STILL with even kind of solemnity in my
quietude; for it seemed to me that all that
could be called life in my existence was to end
this day.
He was working in his studio had not
told him the hour was to go, when it came,
| went TO him. Once had thought that l
would ask him to let me sit one hour beside
him before | went. had done it once or
''gi"e before, but this day could not. L only
went to him wlI~n every preparation was
completed, and my corded trunks were at the
door
| entered the room then, and stood before
him.
Il am going, Noel.'
He started up at the sight of me, and came
tOmeet me.
"You did not tell me you were to go so
soon" he said "Why did you not come be-
forr?r
"There was no need to disturb you. 1t did
not matter"
1T would not have disturbed me, Ruth"
He took my two hands in his. AS he held
them, he looked at me.
Ruth, are you really going?'
ayes
"You are looking pale and ill. Ruth, you
are not glad to CO."
"Noel | am not strong. Bid me good bye"
':Not yet-nOt here, Ruth"
'Yes; here saw you first in this house
when think of you, | want you TO belong to
this house, first and last
He was standing before me. We both be-
came silent. What more was there to say?
Alas! had nothing more. But raised my
face-I looked into his eyes. L should see him
no more-I should never see him more per
hapS on earth.
Then the end came.
"Let me 20 now"
He held my hands still, and holding them.
stopped and kissed me. Once he prayed-God
bless me! Before he loosed my hands, he re-
peated twice:
Little Ruth little Ruth"
And that was all. No tears had risen TO
my cyes-they were all hot and dry; but |
went away from MN, ana CLOSED the door,
cropping my steps Il the night had fallen.
VI.
Twas in my own house, and alone-solitary
from day TO day, from dawn till night. was
not happy. God had given me my lot and | |
hard to be conteRted with il; but |
could not see my way init. | did not know |
what to do. If | had had one single creature |
to have lived for, could have been resigned |
to il; but l was so utterly lonely!
| knew that in some way | must work or |
could not bear it. With courage, therefore, |
that was kind of despair, set TO work |
Not TO quiet indoor work, reading, studying. |
myself | could not do these things |
at first. my feeble eoer,yv nsAascd first 10 H.. |