Mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado Co., Cal.) 1854-1860, 1859-03-05

Gas mp ANn conviction. managed 70 rise,
and crOap 70 my house did not understood
how came to be In the cathedral.
My aspect frightened Margaret The first
thing my eyes fell upon on entering my room,
was the packet had prepared for Alice. Re.
turned after her DEATH" inwardly comment
ed. was too misera6lcotO be fully conscious
Of my misery. I broOdcd stupidity over .
newly kindled fire, while Margaret hustled in
and out on hospitable thoughts intent
"When did she die u" ] asked stOlIdly, by
and by.
Nigh month since, SIR"
A long pause.
who plays the organ now !"
"Pleasc, sIr, take your hot coffee, and get
to bed. Time enough to bother about organs
when you look less like corpse" was added
soto rOcc.
repeated my question doggedly.
"WeIl, she does il all$the same" was the
weird. sounding reply. had swallowed one
cup Of Margsret's hot, strong coffee, and life
was reminding within me-
"Are you hooking me, womani" ! cried.
She stared at me, and then gave some
soothing answer. Evidently she feared was
dcranged. made mighty effort 10 appear
composed.
margaret, tell me Immediately the name
of the person who now plays the cathedral
organ"
alice Hall, sir; the same who has played
for six months now. She went off sudden,
and il made no difference to Miss Hall, as 1t
might have done to some, sir; she has not
missed q service"
Again Margaret appeared to find cause for
alarm in my face. =
"Do you mean to say that for the last
month, since her death, the cathedral organ
has been played as it used to be IN her life ?"
"Ycs, sir; it has, sir" Margaret backed
twards the door as rose.
played by departed, discmbOdied spir.
it ard you take il all as q matter Of course"
Law Good gracious, sir, | never said
any thing Of the kind. Some says Miss Hall
looks like n ghost; but she isn't ono yet. -
Margaret! who then died month since:"
put the question solemRly. --
MRS Smith, sir, who used to live with
Miss Hall, went off in fit, quito sudden, as |
told you plainly, SIR"
leave the ROOM" commanded.
can not say what did or how felt when
left alone.
by and by rang for Margaret. Icxplaind
;
could remember Of the Incidents Of the night.
Having taken some trouble to convince her Of
my sanity, again dismissed her. Poor, poor
Alice dear, dcsOlate child rcproachcd my.
self bitterly for having selishly thought Of my
own delight, not Of her peace and torment.
cd myself by imagining what she could pos
sibIy think Of mc-of my having left her with.
out one word If leave-taking, or one sign oi
remembrance. The parcel she had not re-
ceived.
went to the cathedral carly. found that
Alice was already there. Unseen, | watched
her while. She looked faded and worn, and
was dressed in mourning; she had lost hei
only fricnd-fNr | had no right to hope she
still considered me as such-and must feel her
self indeed alone. Yet angelic peace and stead
fast faith stole over her weary aspect as she
played. Oh ! we'll remember the sweet up
turned face, the droOp Of the soft hair down
the thin check. My darling!
BY and by, she paused, and took her hands
from the keys to draw her shawl closer, will
pale shudder. Istepped near her. Because
hardly dared to speak to her at all, spoke
as if we had but parted but yesterday: "Iou
should not BE- here OH such morning"
"And you are come home at last!" Sht
held out to me the hand had not offered t
take. Ga seeing me she had grown paler thar
ever; but when spoke, gladncss beamet
from her eyes, TO he soon qucnched in tears a!
she saw me look at her mOurning.drcSs.
/ There was silence Of some moments.
"YOu have missed mes" asked humbly.
Eyes, yes"
"And can you ever forgive mc?"
"Forgiyc you'll" she echoed.
-. held her hand firmly. and over mine cam'
trembling her free hand thrilling me by it
voluntary, undcservcd caress.
"You have been I'LL fear you have hccr
very ill.," she said, gazing at me compassion
atcly.
was glad t. make the worst of my case.
~ have been very i'll. have much t
plead in excuse Of my silence and neglect
but not enough, not half enough, il it has giver
you pain. You trcmblc. frightened you by
my sudden return"
'"No, no; you never brighten me; you neycl
pain me. have been sad and lonely; but
know you would return, il you could-if yo,
ought. You have always been good to me: il
would have been wrong Of me to think Of yOr
unkindiy."
why did you shuddcr but now"
" remembered dream. a dreadful dream
l hau last night.
"Tell it me-"
81 had rather not"
al have reason. for wishing to know it."
al dreamed that you were dead-tlat sa
at the organ at midnight and played your re
quiem."
Again she turned pale. think must have
done SO too. A queer thrill went through
me as, for the first time, fully recalled the
event of the past night.
You must let me take you home," I said
| released her hands, and folded her shaw
closely round her.
Looking straight into my face with her dear
innocent eyes; she said:
"You must not spoil me so if you had not
should not have found il so hard to do with
out you"
This was just too much for me. Igathercd
the little thing into my arms, kissed her sweet
brow again and again, and cried:
"Alicc, you must let me keep you always
you must be my wife! !"
She disengaged herself; she drew little
away from me.
II know that yon arc very good Is this
because my aunt is dead, and l am alone J"
she asked earnestly.
at is because love you"
My eyes confirmed my words; hers droop.
ed, and her face looked as if the sun were
fain tly shining on it through ruby pane in
A II